Welcome to Neverland
by un-rustledjimmies
Summary: After a confession of love, and its heartbreaking aftermath, Emma and Ruby leave Storybrooke with a goal of conquering New York City. Two Years later, and the infamous duo 'Enchanted Forestry' is just completing their first world-wide tour. But what happens if their record company decides its time for a hometown show? SwanQueen (slight OQ)
1. Two Years

**A/N - So this story goes slight AU right after Emma brings Marian home from the past, and kind of develops from there. Any mistakes regarding alternate spellings or information of the cities are my own (I'm an Aussie) I hope you can all enjoy it !**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of OUaT or its amazing characters.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Two Years**

The opening bass-line of their song filled the arena and the crowd screamed impossibly louder. She looked anxiously to her left and caught the mischievous eyes of her best friend, reflected a pure-sapphire in the under-stage lighting.

Emma's outfit was simple; high-waisted, black leather shorts, a loose fitting, sheer white blouse, black bra and floral printed jacket, which would have clashed with Ruby's much simpler maroon skirt and black cross-strap bra-let if they weren't so naturally in tune with one another. The blonde sported her usual Maton EM225C and head mic where the brunette held her favourite – unsurprisingly – ruby red microphone. Both women wore insanely high stilettos – Emma's ankle boots, and Ruby's strappy – and were well accustomed to performing in them.

Veronica, their costume designer, and Karli, their make-up artist stood off to the side, ordering teams of people as they moved about in the hustle beneath the catwalk. A woman applied yet another coat of red to Ruby's lips, while another feathered a brush hastily over Emma's cheekbones. Somewhere in the distance, she saw Marian swiftly pushing a trolley full of costume changes into their dressing rooms. Veronica shouted something inaudible in the noise of the now raising platforms and Emma felt a straw-patterned trilby pushed rapidly upon the very crown of her head, the movement rustling her hair and tickling the very tops of her shoulders.

As soon as the first heads of the audience came into Emma's view, she began strumming the melody of the song – the acoustic thrum neutralising the previous thunder of the bass. The crowd cheered louder, almost drowning out the music entirely. Both women rose from their squat as the platform reached the surface of the catwalk, Emma smirking at the audience as Ruby sent a wink just off to the side to where her screen's cameraman sat.

"Hello Sydney." Emma's voice was smug; it always was when she spoke on stage. She assumed it was some sort of nervous side effect. She chuckled upon receiving a few overly-enthusiastic 'hello's' back from the crowd, but managed to keep her smirk firmly on her face. "I'm Emma."

The introductions weren't necessary, but it was something the two agreed upon early in their career. Almost like an acknowledgement of the past – of the struggles they faced to get where they were, a promise not to forget. Plus, their fans claimed it was one of the many things that made them unique.

"I'm Ruby." The brunette husked. Ruby was the seductive on stage; all innuendos and sultry tones. This, with the way she dressed, established her as the duo's (self-proclaimed) sex-appeal. The amount of rumours circling the tabloids of a secret love affair between the two was ridiculously profound.

"And we're Enchanted Forestry" Emma had that line bagged. She had come up with the name herself; the idea being far too ironic for them not to take on (though they were both drunk and had never really reconsidered). The audience went insane once more, and Emma giggled as she caught sight of a girl in the very front tearing up. Her fingers glided through the opening chords of the song in series, building the venue's anticipation with every repetition. She played the progression through once more, building the final chord in a crescendo before barring her guitar – the entire stadium falling silent as the bass dropped out.

"Welcome to Neverland."

* * *

"Nice work guys!" Emma puffed out between gulping breaths. The second half of their show always took it out of her, but she wasn't complaining - she enjoyed it far too much. Though she _could_ maybe admit that jumping around on stage like an 18 year old at a rave was starting to do bad things to her joints (just not out loud). Ruby slung a sweaty arm over her shoulders and laughed loudly as Veronica mentioned someone in the crowd who'd passed out in the midst of the second half, which wasn't uncommon as it was purely electronica. The blonde flicked the very ends of her hair out of the vice of her partners arm to splay over it and allow meagre puffs of air to reach her skin. Who'd of thought two 30 year olds could reel in such a crowd?

Backstage, the hallway to the dressing rooms was packed with band members and concert crew who were hastily packing instruments and sets for their next - and final - show, home in New York. When the crowd dissipated, Ruby and Emma finally made their way to their room.

As soon as the door was open, a thigh-high ball of energy smashed into the blonde's legs - almost taking her down with its force. Looking down, she couldn't help but smile as she found herself looking straight into the huge, sugar-fuelled, hazel eyes of Marian's five-year-old, Roland.

"I think someone got into the candy again... What do you think Auntie Ruby?"

The brunette detached her sweaty arm from Emma's shoulder and picked up the boy, squeezing him tightly and revelling in his disgusted laugh when he quickly became covered in sweat, "I agree, Auntie Emma"

The blonde laughed as Ruby took off with him out the door, the boy screaming in delight as his kidnapper no doubt weaved dangerously through the foot traffic that still lingered in the hall.

"I swear. We need better crew. This is like the third night in a row Karli's given in to him and bought him a packet of candy. He won't sleep until 5am at this rate."

Marian had changed exponentially since they'd left Storybrooke. Emma and Ruby had never planned on taking her with them, but it just so happened - by pure coincidence - she'd been planning on leaving town for a while. About as long as Emma, really (this occasionally happens when two people get together, and one has a wife). They'd bonded instantly, drunk in a hotel room, over broken hearts while her son slept soundly in the bedroom, but nevertheless. It was unsurprising she became their manager when they were randomly signed. The surprising part was just how _well_ she adjusted to her new job.

"You love her though."

Marian smiled, "I do."

They'd both cut their hair the very week of leaving; a huge 'fuck you' to the couple that had broken their hearts. Well, they'd both needed a change, and agreed it was easiest to blame it on those who weren't there to defend themselves. Marian's hung straight and long-layered in a way that framed her face perfectly, the ends a caramel toned ombré (a look she simply _loved_ when she'd seen it on a girl in the city). Emma, on the other hand, had gone for the much more common method of simply 'chopping it off'. Her once long, luscious curls ended just on her shoulders - a cut the blonde fell in love with the moment she got it. Ruby wasn't much for a haircut, but she celebrated the women that night and they'd all swore to never again pin their happiness on fleeting hopes.

Emma sat in a stool beside Marian and began the tedious task of removing her makeup. The latter watched curiously, eyebrows drawn in deep thought.

"Did you ever think we'd get here?"

The blonde stilled momentarily, mulling the question over, before standing and beginning to change, "Here as in Australia concluding our first world tour or...?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, unconsciously throwing out the used remover pads her friend forgetfully left on the bench, "You know what I mean."

Emma slipped on her boots and pulled on her leather jacket, almost reaching back to free hair that no longer existed from the back. She always got like this when they talked about that stupid town.

"No. But I never thought I'd leave Storybrooke until I did. I guess it just happens."

"I guess. I'm glad it did though."

Ruby returned then, carrying a completely unconscious 5 year old and mentally grasping whatever remaining strands of her own energy as she placed the sleeping boy on the sofa and collapsed into the same stool Emma just vacated, "Rollie passed out around lap 5. I did another just to make sure. I tell you what though, Australians are persistent!" The words came out slightly muffled as she wiped away her red lipstick, "there's still a tonne of them still waiting outside hoping to see us leave."

The women laughed heartily, Australia was her favourite country so far. Everyone was welcoming and their fans seemed extra excitable tonight in the crowd - though that could have been second hand with it being their final international show. She'd even bumped into someone in a Sydney mall and _they'd_ apologised. Plus, Bondi beach was one to quickly top her list.

Emma poured three glasses of wine, mindful of their dwindling free-time but knowing their travels weren't quite complete without their post-show ritual. Each women took a glass before toasting in unison, "here's to a land without magic and a life _not_ planned entirely by Rumplestiltskin."

* * *

The flight back home had been hell. 14 hours of horrible turbulence and shift-napping to ensure Roland, who was scared of flying, wouldn't be left alone. Once they'd landed in New York, things hadn't gotten any better. Coming off the flight, they were informed of a annoying number of paparazzi flooding the arrivals terminal, which meant that, to keep not only themselves but Roland safe, they would have to travel in a single file. This, once more, provided an abundance of Emma/Ruby relationship candids published everywhere with numerous colourful headlines like _"Enchanted Forestry or Bedded Forestry"_ and _"Welcome to Neverland tour concludes with whirlwind romance!" w_ hen the blonde returned to her apartment that night.

It wasn't that the rumours bothered her it's just that it seemed to be the only thing the media had to really push about them for some time, and it had become a legacy of sorts. Apparently two women, who may have even the slightest affiliation with the same sex at any point in their life, that hang out are definitely dating. It's like, science or something... Right? It probably didn't help they found it hilarious to taunt them about their... _relationship_ or that it was entirely plausible _._ Tabloids were never really the woman's thing, but it was hilarious waking up to find out her night in last night was actually spent partying hard. Or so the media said, thus it must be the truth.

Though Emma was absolutely exhausted, she forced herself to stay awake as she waited to receive her timetable for the next week off of Marian. She had to give it to the woman, she was damn good at her job. They'd landed less than two hours ago, and already she had gotten onto their record company and organised a string of interviews all which would take place before their final show at Madison Square Garden the following week. A quick shower, a mug of hot cocoa and one episode of 'I Love Lucy' later, her phone jingles with a message and she all but cries with joy. Crawling into bed she clicked onto Marian's attachment and skimmed over her schedule for the week. Tomorrow, they had an interview with E! News which wasn't really a big deal. She could sleep in. The next few days were filled with meetings with agents and other important people they'd need to deal with. And Monday they had... what!

Sitting up ramrod straight in bed, Emma clumsily thumbed through her contacts until she found Ruby's name and tapped to call, surprising herself when she didn't smash her screen with the force of the jab. The brunette answered on the last ring, her voice sleepy and disoriented.

"Em? What the hell, it's like 2am"

"Have you seen this weeks' schedule, Rubes?"

"What? No. I was asleep."

"Look at it now!" The blonde's heart was buzzing in her chest. She was gonna freak.

"Fine, shit. Calm down."

There was a rustling as Emma assumed the brunette put her phone on speaker and thumbed for her message, "Em, If you called me because we have a bunch of meetings with head offic- holy shit."

"Yeah."

"HOLY SHIT EMMA."

The blonde burst into laughter as she heard the brunette scramble around her bed, heavy breathing as she rolled out of it and grabbed her phone. There was a series of dial tones, and a ringing and before Emma realised just what was happening, there was an answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi Maz." The blonde could still here Ruby's heavy breathing, and assumed the other brunette could as well. The former was probably the biggest fan Emma knew of the show, and somehow she figured this was going to be hilarious.

"Emma, is everything oka-"

"HOW LONG DID YOU KNOW WE WERE GOING ON ELLEN WITHOUT TELLING US?"

* * *

Regina sighed as she switched off the television for the _third_ time that night. The news programs all over the networks were babbling on about _Enchanted Forestry_ and their stupid world-wide tour. If she'd wanted any information on the duo, she'd simply walk upstairs and ask Henry (and forget a time when she would know more about his other mother's life than him). Why Emma Swan had to leave town and become internationally famous, she had no idea. _Perhaps the question should be how everyone has tolerated her for so long,_ she mused.

She tried to ignore the fact she had multiple EPs and their first solo album (Deluxe Edition) saved to her brand new iPod.


	2. BC (the catalyst, end, beginning)

**CHAPTER 2 - BC (the catalyst, the end, and a beginning)**

They were sitting on Regina's couch. The very same one she had sat Emma upon on her first night in Storybrooke. Of course, that couch forwent the lingering smell of apple cider, a direct result of the blonde's over-enthusiastic nature when she was inebriated.

Much like she was now.

It had been like this almost every single night since Ingrid had left. Emma and Regina had become the closest of friends, and spent most of every day together. All in all, the brunette became her best friend. Something the blonde was probably about to ruin.

"Emma, I don't quite understand. Did you not say mere days ago that you were willing to give Killian a chance?" ( _Much to Regina's discourse - she never quite thought him eligible_ )

Emma giggled, and bobbed her head in an enthusiastic nod. She did say that. She's said a lot of things that were untrue in the last few months.

"And now you've ended it with the pirate." ( _who didn't deserve her_ )

"Yep."

"Emma..."

"What?" It was whine. Even Emma cringed at the pitch her voice had taken, "I don't need a lecture, Regina." Her heart was a jackhammer in her chest, pumping itself hard against her ribs. She'd come here with the intention of coming clean.

Alcohol always did loosen her up.

Regina lifted her hands in surrender, raising her eyebrows in an urging to continue, but she didn't. The brunette had no clue what had made the blonde so damn jumpy, but she certainly wasn't laying herself on the line to find out. Emma can be classed as one of two drunks; the happy, overly excited drunk or the talkative drunk. Right now, Regina was having trouble distinguishing between the two. She'd always found the blonde adorable in either state. _Stop thinking about it_.

"Emma, I just want you to be happy."

The blonde's head was ringing. Whether from the cider or the pounding of blood deafening the silence of the office, she wasn't sure. Tears bubbled up in her eyes at the memory of their many heated arguments that had taken place in this room.

She was probably going to miss that most.

After Henry, of course.

Gently, almost timidly, Regina placed a hand on Emma's jean-clad thigh. A plea of understanding. _Help me understand_.

Emma seemed to pull herself out of whatever emotional revere she had thrown herself into, and plastered on her standard (albeit drunken) saviour smirk. She downed the rest of her cider, an almost full glass, and levelled Regina with a tilted gaze,

"I want _you_ to be happy."

The brunette scrunched her eyebrows in confusion as she watched her (never-before-admitted) best friend rise wobbly from the couch and saunter to the bar. The decanter of cider was almost empty - the second for that night alone.

"I don't understand."

Emma laughed sharply, the sound biting at the older woman's ears. A splash of cider missed her glass, landing messily on the countertop.

"Of course you don't."

Normally, words as condescending as these would end in a slightly aggravated mayor and a very apologetic Sheriff. Drunk, however, Regina was slightly more lenient, and went for an offended approach.

"What is that supposed to mean, Ms. Swan?"

The blonde groaned. Of course the woman was going to make this hard, she had a knack for it, really. Sighing, Emma returned to her seat, flopping down and spilling what seemed like more cider than her cup held.

" _I'm_ happy if _you're_ happy. Y'know?"

The brunette watched as the other woman gulped almost half her glass down at once. She honestly _was_ confused, but not by what the blonde was saying, rather the point she was working towards, "I'm not quite sure I do know."

"Yes you do, Gina-"

"That's not my name."

"Regina, you do know what I'm saying. You're happy right?"

The brunette fumbled momentarily, unsure of why this conversation was now about her. She supposed she was happy. She had to be, her fate-delegated soulmate was due home any minute.

"Of course I'm happy, Emma. You gave me my happy ending."

 _With you, I always know when you're lying._

Nowadays, her superpower wasn't on instinct - not with Regina. There was always an underlying influence of hope, one Emma has still not come to ignore. A little push from her intergenerational Martyr complex.

Emma stayed silent for a what seemed like an eternity. As close as the two women were, the never once spoke of Robin. It was the fatal flaw of their relationship, their sole reason for disagreement. Emma had always argued that Regina should pursue a happy ending of her own design rather than fate's.

Regina had always said this _was_ her own.

The blonde looked all too sad suddenly, like the weight of the worlds were once again placed directly on her shoulders. Responsibilities of the saviour. She never wanted it that way, never wanted to be responsible for everyone's happy ending, even if it meant losing her own.

And it did.

"You gave me Robin, Emma, and I'll never forget that." She swallowed hard, once again overcome by the sadness resonating off of Emma, "and I promise I'm going to help find yours."

Emma laughed again, though this was full of self-deprecation and sadness. She looked up at Regina then, her eyes gleaming as if she had never drunk a single glass that night. Her sincerity ceasing the brunette's breath in her throat, speeding her heart rate as if in anticipation of the next move.

"That's the thing," green eyes flicker gold, and Regina knows she's seeing right into the woman's soul, "I've already found my happy ending."

The older woman's heart stops, stilling any movement of her body, scared that if she does the woman won't tell her what she wants to hear. Or doesn't want to hear.

 _I don't really know anymore._

"She's kind of already found hers, though. Ain't fate a bitch?"

All at once, Regina booted up again. Her breath slammed from her lungs in a single exhale, her heartbeat thrummed like a jackhammer in her chest and her brain slowly began to awaken. Emma was looking at her with all this hope - all ill-placed hope - and all this sadness and she couldn't even _begin_ to process just what had happened. The blonde watched as her statement landed. Chocolate eyes widened, the whites expanding almost more with fear and confusion than anything else. Stained lips floundered over words, forming beginnings and ends with no sound between. She'd probably just made the worst mistake of her life, and the only consolidation she has is a fish-imitating brunette and a sunken heart. And she would have left, if it hadn't been for the hand on her arm and the crashing of plump lips on her own.

They moved in an electrified crash of teeth and lips, bites and moans. They amplified, bodies sliding together like magnets until suddenly they were connected and had miraculously made it to the brunettes bedroom. The heat between them overwhelming, clothes were strewn from the ceiling fan to the bathroom door as the fire consumed their revealed bodies. They moved in synchronisation, seeking to memorise the others body - construct a catalogue: what makes them moan, makes them tick, makes them scream. They sought an infinite high far outside of the realm of reality, and Emma just about found that, she thought, knuckles deep with Regina's taste on her lips. The blonde was equally turned on and ecstatic, moving against the woman she loved as if her life depended on it, and watching as the most beautiful woman she knew came undone beneath her.

Then there was a slam of the front door.

"Regina?" Downstairs, heavy boots collided with the marbled hall.

Eyes that were black with lust mere seconds ago widened and suddenly Emma was being pushed off with a force she didn't even know the tanned woman possessed. She was up, clothes, both hers and the other woman's piled high into her arms, Regina's movements frantic and efficient.

"Coming, dear."

"Regina, what's happening?"

The brunette shot Emma the most heated of glares before ushering her towards the bathroom. The blonde's head was ringing, out of confusion mostly, but she wasn't completely sure the cider wasn't making a return appearance.

"Regina?"

"Miss Swan. This was a huge mistake, I can distract Robin while you get yourself dressed and gone. Do hurry." She marched towards the door, pulling on a silk robe as she did, Emma's anger flared.

"Are we not going to _talk_ about this?"

turning back and pinning her with an apologetic glance, Regina's words were soft and hidden deep underneath her layers of slowly building guilt, "There _is_ nothing to talk about, dear."

Rejection hit the woman with the force of a wrecking ball, crumbling her to a simple mess on the elegantly tiled floor. The bedroom door shut with a _snick,_ and she tried really hard not to realise this was her first time in this room. She tried _really_ hard not to think of a future where it became _her_ room. Faintly, she could hear Robin complimenting Regina's outfit (or lack there-of), she could almost _see_ him placing his lips delicately upon the skin Emma had traced with her mouth mere moments ago. She thought she could hear the woman beneath her speak, but the words were engulfed with the thoughts colliding in her mind, the sting of her heart as it hardened.

Without dressing, the blonde poofed herself out of the house, landing quietly in her own (not quite as comfortable) bed with the words "Fuck you, Regina" repeated on her lips.

* * *

It was surreal watching her best friend's nervous, babbled pacing - which was amounting to nothing other than dizziness and Emma's mental collapse - dissipate as the chorus of Eve's the Behaviour's "Electrical" filled the studio. The older woman had no doubt her partner would be a nervous wreck, so, out of the kindness of her heart (and maybe slightly for the sake of her own health) she subtly suggested one of the duo's agreed 'chill' songs for their entrance music. This did the trick, obviously, because said nervous-wreck was currently _sashaying_ her way down the small, curved staircase and all the way to the white sofas in the centre of the room. Emma, on the other hand, laughed and decided to 'walk-rave' over to the women - which was really nothing special, just what she would do behind the kit on stage, but with progression - who were already embracing.

Once the crowd had settled (a feat since Ruby blew them a kiss and salacious smile on her way out which just about murdered 3 women whom were almost reduced to tears) and the women sat, Emma became nervous all over again. She shifted closer to her partner, content when her thigh aligned the brunette's entirely, _at least one of them can keep their cool._

So it didn't really surprise her when the woman said (shouted) the first word.

"Hi!"

The host smiled, shaking with laughter before responding, "Hey!"

The interview ran on much in the same frivolous manner for the next few minutes, with both women answering pretty standard questions for their line of work; "are you guys planning to extend your tour?" not yet, but we're considering, "written anymore songs?" Of course, the writing never stops! Etc etc.

"Your career has really taken off in the last year or so..."

"Gosh, we know. It's been insane"

"I remember hearing one of your songs real late on a drive back home from work, and the next day it was everywhere!

"Yeah, we have no idea how that happened, to be honest." the crowd laughed, mostly at the confused, sarcastic look Emma threw at her partner while she talked. The duo giggled in return, letting their hands fall clasped between them.

Which was the _first_ thing Ellen latched onto.

"So, how did you two ladies meet?"

Ruby picked up on the woman's smug tone, and squeezed Emma's hand, she was going to take this question.

"Well, I grew up in this tiny town a few hours from here. It was pretty boring town, you know that one where the beach is actually just rocks and freezing water and it feels like _nothing changes for_ 28 years." The blonde rolled her eyes. The crowd, and the woman across from them, were eating this up, chuckling responsively to her sarcastic, blasé tone, "anyway, I used to work as a waitress at my Granny's dinner in the Main Street and one day, this insanely attractive woman walks in and sits right in my section" the crowd 'ooh's and 'ah's and even Ellen's eyebrows raise, with her eyes flickering between the two, "it wasn't Emma though, but she mentioned a new chick in town who seemed pretty cool."

The crowd was laughing once more, and Emma shouldered Ruby playfully, "Yeah, very funny. We actually met that night when I booked a room at her Gran's bed and breakfast."

"So this mysterious little town, any clues to where it is?" The duo looked precariously at the other, an allusion to a decision - but there wasn't one to be had.

"No"

"Nope"

"No can do, sorry."

The words were spoken in a pseudo paranoia-filled rush(one well practiced in their hotel room) which sent everyone into fits of laughter. The host continued the interview, retreating into more comfortable topics of conversation.

"So this album is very unique, why is that?"

"This album is important to us because it meant we could showcase _all_ of what we had to offer. It's titled 'Welcome to Neverland' of course, and it has two parts." Emma looked to Ruby.

"Part one is 'From the Castle' which is our more acoustic arrangement. It's what the first part of our gigs usually are and were before we got signed."

"Our second part is 'To the Forest' and that's mostly electronic dance music."

Ellen shook her head, seemingly astonished by the words, "that's insane." She looked into the crowd, "they're insane right?"

The rest of the interview passed quickly, with Ellen briefly questioning Emma about her son. While the blonde struggled with her relationship with Regina (she wanted to say she hated her, but that was highly inaccurate) she was exceedingly grateful for her year with Henry and the memories the brunette gave to her. Ellen showed a photo she had provided of the kid she saved from the cursed memories, when he was four, which then transitioned into a selfie he'd sent her showcasing his haircut the week prior. At 15, she had to admit her kid was pretty damn cute. At the end of the interview Ellen turned to the women with a sneaky smile and Emma could all but predict what was coming.

"You guys have awesome chemistry, and I love ya, but I have to ask... Are you dating?"

Everything was silent as the question hung in the air. The two women were best friends, and yes, they had shared a bed a few times since escaping Storybrooke. It was solely physical, of course. They'd both agreed not to let these 'events' impact their friendship, and they hadn't. They were always there for one another, ever since they'd gotten their hearts broken by two of the most beautiful brunettes they'd ever met. This is what worked best for them now.

In answer, they shrugged and their interview was concluded with praise and availability of their albums in stores 'all across America'.

* * *

Emma sat in her office and stared out at the city as her laptop started up. The week had been hectic, not only had they finally concluded their 9 month world tour but the media has straight out stalked them for a week demanding answers to the whereabouts of their 'mysterious little town' and support for numerous 'close anonymous tips' leading to all kinds of little towns over the country. Maybe it'd been a bad idea mentioning Storybrooke on National television, but she couldn't really bring herself to care. _No one was going to find it, anyway._

Once logged on, Emma was quick to jump onto her Skype account and call Henry. It was Tuesday, exactly 7 o'clock in the evening - the same way it had been for the previous year and a half. Almost a tradition, really. They keep In touch more often of course, texting all day, and calling each other to fill in any possible blanks in the other person's knowledge of their lives. Ruby quite often mentioned how annoying the two were, but the blonde never wanted Henry to think she was leaving him again - disregarding the fact she actually _did_ leave. So they kept in touch anyway they could. However, she much preferred it when they Skyped. It reminded her of when they'd gone behind Regina's back with the walkie-talkies all those years ago - the brunette had known, but that just made it all the more fun really.

The annoying ringing sound abruptly ended, and Emma frowned. Henry always answered on the first ring. Briefly, she wondered whether Henry had finally gotten tired of this 'long-distance-motherhood' thing once and for all. Her heart sped up as she considered that option; _what kind of mother is she really? Visiting her kid between tours and disciplining him over Skype?_ _Not a great one._ The sound of an unnaturally chirpy ringtone grabbed her attention, and Emma looked down to see an incoming call from the boy himself. Flooding with relief, she answered. _Henry would never do that._

"Hey kid!" A pixelated image of her gangly, teenaged son flooded the screen and the blonde couldn't wipe the smile from her face. His hair was shaggy, still (though she could swear he promised to get a haircut last week) and his face was much... sadder?

"Hey Ma." Henry adjusted himself into a more comfortable position, jostling the camera and making it hard for his mother to place an accurate emotion. Once the camera settled, she could plainly see annoyance - and, was that anger? - on his face.

"Henry. What's the matter?" Since the end of the curse, Henry had never really been an outsider at school. He made friends, an awesome group of kids who were all as creative as he was, and in his freshman year of highschool, he even scored himself a girlfriend. Since then, he'd never really been sad. Emma was almost too caught up in worry to realise she was surprised.

"Are you okay?"

Henry shrugged and looked off to something she couldn't see, his eyes slightly downcast. Her worry piqued, and she leant closer to her camera, as if only to become closer to her son.

"Yeah, I guess. I just feel like mom never listens to me, y'know?"

Emma knew. Regina was real good at ignoring people when she wanted to. There was times when the blonde questioned her own state of being - was she still living? - after pissing the woman off. But not Henry, never to him.

"You and I both know that's not the case, kid. That woman loves you more than anything in the world."

Henry looked down and smirked, "yeah I know." His face contorted, and his voice lowered to an almost imperceptible level, "except maybe Robin."

Emma's stomach bottomed out. She'd gone out of her way to not think about that man, or his relationship with her son's other mother (because it was easier referring to her that way than whatever the hell she was to her), purely for her own psychological health. It was unavoidable, she knew, but oddly enough she handled the co-parenting phone calls rather well, if you ignore her awkwardness and the uncomfortable tension most of the time, she did alright.

"Why do you say that?" A forced smile that felt more like a grimace slowly turning her lips.

"Well, she's marrying him. That's why I missed your call, they were telling me the 'good news'" the last two words were dripping sarcasm and the boy huffed as he crossed his arms roughly over his chest. The blonde's breathing had yet to even out, but she didn't think it was possible at this point, not if her heart rate had anything to say about it.

"Aw, c'mon. Guy can't be that bad, can he?" Yeah, he could. He smelt like man-sweat and moss 100% of the time, and he left his unconscious wife and kid for his mistress.

Henry just levelled a look at her that pretty much confirmed her thoughts, and she could only shrug.

"Anyway, enough of that crap - how was Australia!?" At that, the woman launched into a highly exaggerated tale of the first, and only, time they decided to travel the streets of Sydney alone without a cell only hours before the show, and how they'd barely made it to the venue before they were due to perform, which had Henry in tears in mere minutes.

"We got lost in China town, which is ridiculous because it's literally a single street-"

"Henry!"

Emma stopped her regaling as the word rang out in the mansions' hallway. In the back of the camera, she watched as bedroom door swing open and Regina waltzed into the room, much like she always did - without a knock and as regal as anything.

"Henry Daniel Mills, I have spent the last _hour_ trying to tell Robin you _don't_ hate him and that you're supportive of our relationship because _you_ had the audacity to _walk out of the room_ without so much as a _congratulations_ after we told you our news." A deep breath, and she visibly calmed. Henry shot an awkward glance to the computer screen where the blonde sat unmoving for fear of embarrassing the older woman, "I understand you're not a fan of him, Henry. But he makes me happy. Don't you think I deserve to be happy?"

Both Emma and Henry's stomachs twisted. She did deserve happiness, but that didn't make any of those words hurt any less. The blonde watched Henry mentally debate his actions before whispering clearly, "Go apologise, Hen."

That spurred the teenager, who suddenly pushed himself off the bed and hugged his mother, apologising and reassuring her of her happiness and just how much she deserves it. Then, reluctantly, he walked out the door. Regina looked at Henry's laptop screen wishing the woman had hung up after that dilemma, but in true Emma Swan fashion, the blonde had stubbornly stuck around.

"Thank you, for that."

Emma smiled, "I didn't do anything. He would've made the right decision, I just figured I'd push the process along a little."

Regina smiled in return and an awkward silence descended upon them. Emma prayed to every possible god that Henry would walk into the room in the next five seconds because otherwise she'd feel obligated to fill it with something stupid. It's not as of the brunette would.

"So, I hear a congratulations is in order?" _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ You'd think someone who's been on international television numerous times could think through what to say before speaking. Her? Not so much.

"You don't have to..."

"No! I do, because that's what friends do and I am trying very hard to be just that. Congratulations Regina."

The older woman looked her her then, pixelated chocolate brown drilling into emerald green with the most pity-filled gaze the blonde had ever seen. It was pathetic, and that's exactly how it made her feel.

"Emma-"

"Tell the kid I'll ring him tomorrow? I should go... Talk to you later." The end button was pressed as soon as the last syllable passed her lips. Emma let out the breath she'd been holding since she'd mentioned the stupid engagement in the first place, and shut her laptop. Shooting a quick message to the kid wishing him a good night and apologising for ending their conversation, she dropped into bed. Mentally and physically exhausted and pressing a hand hard to the ache in her chest that hadn't left since Regina first walked into Henry's room.


	3. Eight Months (and a little in-between)

**A/N: Sorry about the tiny chapter guys, but the next should be up in the next few days as I FINALLY go on holidays from work, so fingers crossed I put off HSC study for a little while longer**

 **Also, just in case it seems a little jumbled, the chapter names are somewhat indicative of the time the chapter takes place, up until the next chapter anyway. Sorry it jumps around so much, I never plan my writing and this always seems to happen.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3 - Eight Months (and a little in-between)**

Her back was cramped like crazy, her thighs twitching as she drained what had to be her 15th coffee tonight and slaved over her computer screen. Stretching her neck side to side, she adjusted the headphones once more over her ears and pressed play. She'd been working on this stupid song for the 'To the Forest' deluxe album for roughly 7 hours now, without progression. Kent, the manager of Turnbull Records, had said it was fine, but Emma could _feel_ something missing.

It wasn't complete, just yet.

Oddly enough, the blonde hadn't been in Storybrooke long before she realised her mandated 'computer-skills' had more of a value than just for finding people. First, she began mixing old school songs; Nirvana and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers (nothing to brag about now) and experimenting with a more electronica background. This progressed to pop songs, and eventually, pure dance music. (She can vaguely recall a time the Mayor had stormed into the police station outright _whining_ about the volume and _'nonsensical drone'_ her speakers were exuding after that fiasco.) When she finally teamed up with Ruby - following a drunken Rabbit Hole karaoke night - they put lyrics to the beat, and half of Enchanted Forestry was born.

Frustrated, she threw the headphones from her head, scrubbing fiercely at her eyes. Acoustically, they had this album nailed. Five songs, two her own and the remaining Ruby's, already recorded and saved as the first disc. She sometimes wished the brunette had more of a technological background, then at least she'd have a little more input than her standard "put a sound in there".

"Hey, Em." Speak of the devil and she may come.

"Hey Rubes, what's up?"

She shrugged in answer, swinging herself lazily onto the soundboard 's bench, near her chair. She remained silent momentarily while the blonde debated returning to her work. She looked sad, Emma surmised, maybe even _forlorn._

Which is not a word one pairs with Ruby Lucas lightly.

"She called me again." _That_ was a surprise and a half.

"You're kidding me." She deadpanned.

Ruby let out a pathetic excuse for a laugh, and shook her head. In moments like these, Emma thought herself capable of murdering the beauty and her beast. Well, Mr. Gold she could kill a few times over.

Belle? Not so much.

"What did she want?"

A shrug, "The usual. How I'm going, how _you're_ going."

She directed a look to Emma, which was easily intercepted. _Of course._ Belle had called Ruby at least twice a week since their move on the premise of 'keeping in touch'. If that, of course, meant slowly (and knowingly) ripping Ruby's heart to shreds. The rumours worked in their favour a lot of the time, it stopped questions of their love lives (or lack there of) and allowed for the two woman to peruse any number of clubs for a casual lay. The brunette was kind of new on this scene, not having an opportunity to explore the pleasures of society in Storybrooke for 28 years. Ruby didn't know, however, that Emma had lived a life like this before.

She simply fell back into it.

"I see."

A long leg snuck out, snaking it's way through the space between them and landing on a jean clad calf. It was a silent question in the easiest form, one perfected over the past five months alone. It was really easier this way, there was no introduction, no search for hidden agenda that a now 'normal' one-night-stand required. _She found it alarming journalists were known for sneaking into beds of celebrities for inside scoops._ Belle had reason to believe the two were involved, and that's the way Ruby liked it. Emma sighed to herself and glanced to the still unfinished work before her.

Ruby wiggled her toes.

"Okay." A heft as the brunette pulled her from her seat, "But only because I wasn't getting anywhere with this anyway."

There were no words spoken as clothes were methodically removed and they fell, together, haphazardly into bed.

* * *

Emma hadn't meant to mysteriously vanish from her small town under the noses of people who knew everything about everyone - she really hadn't. In fact, sometime in the few months she'd read Gillian Flynn's _Gone Girl_ and decided her departure was much too alike Amy Dunne's to be considered even _relatively_ interesting. Minus the blood and the murder vibes (maybe she should have been more creative).

It had taken two days for her mother to call. _Two whole days_ of complete, radio silence and ever-expanding miles between Ruby, Marian, Emma and _that_ little town before her _Mother_ (who made a habit of visiting her shitty little port-side apartment at least once a day) even noticed her absence.

What a pitiful concept.

Of course, Henry had known. In actual fact, he was the one who'd come up with the idea in the first place. Emma tended not to dwell on just how much her little boy had grown (mostly because she felt guilty for not being there and horrified at herself for feeling that way), but that night wasn't one to ever leave the forefront of her mind.

Not for a long time.

Complicated - and tear-wrenching - story short, Henry had given her the a-ok to blow the _fuck_ out of the Popsicle stand that was Storybrooke life, and she hadn't looked back. Not a goodbye to her parents, who were starting on their second child (a girl they wanted to name _Emily_ for gods sake), the greasy pirate (who came to be quite a B-grade drinking buddy) or the woman who singlehandedly reconstructed and sabotaged her life.

She realises _now_ how childish that was.

 _But it felt so god damn good._

Ruby's story, while not hers to tell, was as similar to her own as the day was blue.

 _Woman falls in love, woman informs love, love is in love with someone else._ Or in her case; _love is married to Dark One._

Once again, fate is a bitch.

Emma wandered further into the foot-traffic, indulging in the anonymity of the big city. Most 'celebrities' (she still hadn't quite gotten used to that term) don't tend to walk confidently into the middle of Times Square in rush hour without fear for their lives, which was the best part. She figured that even if people _did_ recognise her - which was happening more frequently than she would prefer - they'd chalk it up to a look-alike and be done with it.

She craved this feeling. The nudge and bustle proclaiming she was _no one_ in the lives of the people hurrying around her. She was _insignificant_ to the man who half-jogged past her, accidentally slamming his shoulder into her own as he talked loudly to his contact on the other side of the earpiece squashed crudely into his ear. A simple barrier is his stride. Not even worth a dirty look.

She was as meaningless to them as they were to her.

She lived in a building with 35 floors, a private parking garage and a personalised maitre'd. She lived in a West Central Park apartment with full-walled windows and a rent she once would have scoffed at ( _who has that kind of money?)_.

In a busy square, she could forget that she once believed she would live out her days in a white mansion. A house with a little two door garage on a street called Mifflin with a family she loved with everything she was.

She could forget herself here.

The tourists always cleared, though, and people always began to look past her 'Hollywood typical' style of disguise - sunglasses in New York City, what a feat. So she began her trek home. Luckily, unlike LA, New York wasn't teeming with invasive paparazzi, so the twenty minute walk (thirty minutes at a relaxed pace) didn't send her into fits of worry about which new story they'd construct of her uneventful afternoon (perhaps, _'Swan almost_ floating _home after secret rendezvous with lover'_ ). Just as she reached the park's edge, her phone rang.

"Hello?"

 _'Emma, hi! How are you?'_

"I'm great, Mom. Just taking a walk."

' _That's great.'_

Skeptical, if she'd ever heard it. There were a bunch of middle-aged lawyers in a line walking towards her. Short, dark hair. A pantsuit. Five-inch-heels. She wasn't her, though. _She didn't choose you._

 _'Emma?'_

She picked up her pace.

"Sorry, MM. I just got distracted."

' _Mmhm. How's the album coming alon-'_

There was a knowing rustle, a loud sigh and the faint cry of her baby brother. Emma's grip on her phone tightened, _please don't hang up_ , as she spotted her building leering up above her.

 _'I'm sorry, Em. Neal is having a horrible time teething.'_

"That's fine, I have to go anyway." _Lie,_ "tell Neal I love him!"

 _'Aw, we love you too sweetie!'_

She never knew homesickness could feel like this. A creature gnawing at your insides until you were but a shell of knowing and a question of where's home and who was there.

A text.

'I need you.'

 _'I'm on my way.'_

* * *

Regina threw yet another of Robin's grass-stained trousers into the wash with a fond smile. Domesticity was not something she thought quite fit her, even with Henry as a child, it was not something she blended into her old life. It was a clunky, discordant twin she forever attempted to assimilate, but whom refused.

Now, it was almost a second nature.

Days were the same, mostly. In the mornings, she disentangled herself from him, dragged herself downstairs and cooked breakfast. Henry would go off to school, and Robin off to work (she tried to forget just _how_ his position as Deputy sheriff had arisen) and she would drive herself to her office. In the evenings, she would return home and wait for her boys. Henry would bound in, exhausted and she would ask him what he wanted for dinner, she'd get started, and Robin would wander in just around when the food was ready, place a kiss on her lips and take a seat to eat.

It was awfully domestic and sentimental.

Perfectly so, in fact.

That's how Regina _wanted_ to see it.

Instead she noticed how she no longer woke to butterflies and a light heart with an arm around her waist, but instead to a feeling of monotony. She noticed Henry's soured disposition, the way his genuine smiles seemed to be directed only to her (without Robin's presence) and to his other mother. She _noticed_ the piles of college magazines on her son's bedside table.

She saw how every single one of them were for New York.

In retrospect, Henry hadn't always hated Robin Hood. Not even close. In the beginning of their relationship, the boy down right _adored_ the man. All he talked about was learning archery, or tales from the legendary man who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. He changed his tune right around the time everything else in her life began to change.

Around the same time as... _It._

The front door slammed. Henry, back from Grace's. His head was buried into his phone, earphones blocking whatever greeting she had for him before she even opened her mouth. She would of said something - maybe a reprimand for kicking off his shoes, a pointed _hello_ to make him realise his lack of basic manners - if she hadn't caught sight of his screen. There was once a time seeing Emma's face wouldn't have stopped her from interrupting her son.

That time seemed to have existed in another realm.

"I miss you too, Ma."

It was a slight pang, the pathetic thud her heart gave. It wasn't for Emma, _surely not_ , but for the conviction Henry spoke with. The love he had for his other mother.

Later that night, she buried the other thud, the one that fluttered at the sight of blonde hair and emerald eyes, in the lips of the man fate chose... The man _she_ chose.


	4. Modern, but with Impeding History

**A/N: Sorry about the delay guys. I just finished my HSC and got into University 4 hours away from home so life has been hectic.**

 **The next chapter shouldn't be as bad of a wait but my best friend is moving away soon and I'm going to have to smother her with affection**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 - Modern, but with an impeding sense of history**

The ring on her finger felt heavy and unnatural against her skin. An alien, unknown object in the form of a present petite, white gold ring that caught _every single_ sliver of light her hand surpassed. It wasn't a design she would have ever of considered, mostly because she never considered ever wearing a ring again. _Emma had known that, but that was irrelevant._

It had all happened rather expectedly, if Regina were to be honest. He was wearing a shirt she knew he hated (one she'd bought for him in the early bliss of happiness) and he had combed his mop of hair back (messily, but never-the-less admirable). Still, she hoped he were simply dolling himself up, _please don't get down on one knee_ , showing his appreciation for her _._ He looked upon her like she held the entire hope of his future, and she had no doubt she resembled a deer in the headlights - or one with a bullet hole between its eyes. She wished for a reason to refuse, _Henry isn't ready for a father figure, it's only been a year_ , or maybe the truth, _I can't fathom the thought of marrying again_ , but she'd never told him, Gods forbid he realises what a wreck she actually was. She coughed a positive, and tried to swallow the rising bile from her throat from the happiness and possession rising in his eyes.

 _She is mine._

The kitchen was awfully bright this morning, perhaps the promises of a beautiful day or the repercussions of the wine she had consumed 'celebrating' the evening prior. She had seen the sadness behind Emma's emerald eyes, even through Henry's dodgy webcam, and she _hated_ that she was the one to put it there. After the woman ended the call, Regina made quick to her study, locking the door and ensuring Robin she be in bed soon.

A bottle or two of wine later, and she found herself sound asleep in the study's leather couch.

She never thought she'd feel as trapped as the moment she realised she'd be forever tied to a man triple her age. She certainly never thought that the man she was destined to be with, that she was _fated_ to be with, would plunge her back into that cage. Once again, she smothered her nausea and moved about the kitchen - ignoring the _clink_ as her left hand made contact with her coffee mug.

Later, Henry made a rather brief appearance before scrambling off to school, and Robin laid a delicate kiss to her cheek, and to her hand - right where the gold was burning - before ducking out to work.

On the way to the office that morning, she slipped the ring from her finger and into her purse.

* * *

Emma awoke to the blinding light of the 7am sun streaking harshly through her eyelids and aggravating the pounding of her head. Beneath her, a muscular, tanned and _very naked_ chest moved rhythmically with deep rest. She tightened her hold and attempted to drift off, before she was startled awake by a croaky voice, "you were very drunk last night, Em."

"Sorry."

She shifted, lifting herself and moving so she could look Ruby in the eye. She ignored the rolling of her stomach, dreading the fact she has a vivid recollection of ordering a bottle of tequila at 2 in the morning. She wondered how much was left.

"Don't be sorry, it was funny. You're just... Worrying me a little to be honest."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a while then. Neither woman moved to cover their bodies, they were comfortable enough being naked around one another. Emma tried not to dwell on the fact Regina had told her she never planned to remarry, that the king she was once forced to wed had permanently removed thoughts of a future marriage in her life from right beneath her. The thought that Robin had somehow broken through that, had _helped_ Regina come to terms with the happiness of love and marriage had her reaching for her favoured bottle of Jack.

The brunette twinkled her fingers down a pale arm, fingers outlining the contrast between tattoos and skin. Once they'd made enough money, Emma finally invested in the ink she'd been meaning to get since she was a child. A finger moved to traced the peacock feather that wrapped tightly around the bicep and shoulder of the blonde, mesmerised by the transition of colours. The deep green in the middle was the colour of her eyes, which flowed into a royal blue, almost as clear and bright as the sapphire of her own. Beneath it, visible through the feather's gaping edges, intricate mandalas and dot-work flowed down her arm, curving into lotus flowers in an artwork which ended just above her hand. On the inside of her wrist, a plain outline of a very familiar clock tower and library seemed almost mundane in comparison to the rest of her arm.

"Robin and Regina are getting married." and she laughs, a laugh thats highly contagious, and soon the women are grasping their stomachs and flopping into each other once more. When they had calmed some, a content sigh - the one that usually follows such a fit - fills the space.

"Do you think we'll get an invite?"

They laugh again, and this time they don't stop. Emma's not really too sure why as nothing is remotely humorous about the situation at all, she just knows that if she were to calm, there was nothing to stop the rotting heartache beating at the walls of her chest. She thinks that Ruby knows as much, because the brunette leaves her laughing, naked, in a $3000 bed clutching her chest and ignoring the tears streaking harshly down her face.

When she gets up god knows how long later, she finds the half empty bottle of tequila in the kitchen and tucks it under her arm. In the shower, she realises that it may be just enough to get her through the morning.

* * *

The bus-line from Storybrooke took approximately 4 1/2 hours to reach Boston. Often, he was alone until at least Portland, where this old man with piercings in his eyebrows and a scowl marking his lips would get on - with a hoard of other people - and the silence would be broken with hushed conversations about nothing. Sometimes, Grace would come with him to visit his mother, the trip didn't seem so long then. Not as mundane between the extra 4 hour commute from Boston to New York.

At Central, Emma met him with a huge, genuine smile and Henry knew he had made the right decision that night. His mother was but a shell in the weeks before she left Storybrooke. She smiled, but it never reached her eyes, and she laughed - all the time - but not _once_ did it light up her face or greet the air with a twinkle of mirth.

She cried, too, but he wasn't sure she knew that he heard her.

In health class, the teachers had talked about depression and how it changed a person's attitude to life - how it could wind around an individuals brain and alter their own personalities and their perceptions on the world. At first, he though maybe Emma was depressed, that she was simply having trouble coping with the change in her life - a break up with Killian, moving out of home, a fight with his mother.

At least, he _assumed_ they had a fight. They'd avoided each other for a 2 weeks.

The internet didn't hold much advice on how to deal with a mother with depression, and Henry had taken it upon himself to speak to her about it. What he hadn't expected was to watch his blonde mother's eyes fill with tears and a smile - genuine - to colour her features for the first time in forever. _I love you so much, Henry._

After that, he began to notice how trapped she was in this town.

Stuck here with people piling endless responsibilities on her shoulders. Stuck with a emblazoned label _'Saviour'_ and an expectation for nothing less than perfect.

She didn't cry anymore. At least, not where she could be heard. She retreated inside herself, she didn't go out on the weekends. She never came to family dinners. Her eyes remained footed with creases of dark purple and brown. She hired Robin Hood as her deputy, even though she hated him, and gave him the day shifts so she didn't have to patrol a town full of people she had come to resent.

She had never told him she hated living there, but he could see it in her eyes.

See it in the smile that no longer turned her lips.

He didn't see this at the time, she had always loved him the same. In fact, aside from Regina, she never treated anyone differently. It was only late at night, when he was sneaking home from Grace's, far past curfew and knowing he was in for a grounding, when he saw it. The lines of sadness ripping ravines into the creases of her face as she sat still in a patrol car beside the library, her eyes vacant and irrevocably _sad._ His heart stuttered, the woman in the car was small - her knees pulled tightly to her chest as if to allow herself to be smaller - nothing like the woman he'd constructed her to be, the woman proclaimed Saviour.

It wasn't until the next day, when Emma picked him up from the mansion with her lazy smirk and horribly mediocre sense of humour, that Henry realised just how strong his mother was. How strong she was to swallow all these feelings, these emotions that were sure to be burning her spirit, and still face the day with everything the town and its inhabitants expected of her. That was the day Emma had _really_ become his hero.

With a heavy heart, and tears in his eyes, he approached his mother and told her everything. He knew now what he couldn't realise before - what he had been seeing the entire time. He told her she was trapped within a town that was going to kill her. She told him she was going to be fine. He told her to leave; _before you can't get back what it takes from you._

 _I love you so much, Ma._

Emma wore her standard sunnies-and-hoodie combo, one so used in these short pick-ups that Henry had developed the ability to pick her out of an anonymous crowd. She took his suitcase from him in her right arm, draping the left over his broad shoulders.

"Shit kid, growth spurt much?"

She sounded the same as she did on the phone, but feeling her beside him, hearing the voice mixed in with the hustle of the big city was so much _more._

"You should see how much I can eat."

She laughed, "Must have been a long trip… No Grace this time?"

They had reached the car now, Emma lifting his suitcase with ease before falling into the drivers seat of her refurbished bug.

"She has a biology assignment due."

She raises an eyebrow, "Are you not in Biology also? I'd rather not face the wrath of your mother when she realises you ditched an assignment to visit me."

"Handed it in last week," he smirked, "had to beat Grace somehow."

When Emma laughed again, he thanked whatever fate, gods or goddess that he had sent his mother away from that suffocating town and its perilous members.

"You guys have such a weird relationship."

* * *

Over two years, he'd barely managed to personalise his insanely-large New York bedroom. One entire wall was a large window, looking out and over the skyscrapers that pierced the sky, towered over the city's people like trees to ants. His king sized bed was parallel to the window, dissecting a wall covered with a marvel wallpaper Emma had picked out just for him.

He would never admit he still got a kick out of it.

When they'd arrived, Roland had just about tackled him to the ground. He never thought he'd be as close to Marian and Roland as he was now, but the woman and her son had become somewhat of a second family - just as much as Ruby had all those months ago. He had started preschool, now, nothing like the little boy who left Storybrooke hanging from his mother's hip. _Time just goes so quickly here._ Sometimes, when he heard his mum and Robin arguing - or worse (though he'd rather not discuss it) - he wished he lived here. Then, at least, he could stop feeling like time never moved forward at all.

His home was a two story mansion at 108 Mifflin Street in Storybrooke, Maine. There, he had a girlfriend, a mother, a father-in-law ( _gag_ ), grandparents, an infant uncle and a town full of people he knew inside and out. Home was also an insanely spacious Central Park apartment in New York City, full of people he would never come to know, with his mother and a family much the same.

A family _he_ had chose all on his own.

He could understand, now, why his brunette mother never really had been a fan of fate.


	5. The Start of an End

**A/N: I'm so terribly sorry about the wait. I genuinely enjoy writing this story, and I made a decision to only write when I'm calm and have all my shit in order, which in the last few months hasn't quite been a possibility. New chapters are on their way, and I hope you guys are still hanging in there!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 - The start of an end too familiar for fate's interruption**

"Do they always follow so obviously?"

Emma and Henry duck and wove throughout the heavy foot traffic of the street, ignoring their trailing reporters. While he had visited plenty of times before, he wasn't as acquainted with the nature of paparazzi. His mother, on the other hand, knew just how to efficiently ignore them.

"Yeah... I don't really think they care, Hen."

A week. One _single_ week was all she had asked for. She'd never taken time before. Hell, she'd even completed a _world wide tour_ for these fuckers and yet, here she was; heading into the label _right in the middle_ of her first week off in two years. Elbowing her way into the flood of people exiting through the Turnbull records' doors, she realised she was rather riled up about the situation.

In the elevator on the way to the 25th floor, when Henry's shoulder brushed hers and he practically launched himself away from her, she realised she wasn't angry at all.

 _She was livid._

Henry hadn't been able to visit in almost a year. Once, when the tour was close to Maine, he snuck out and surprised her right before they went on stage. But that had been a brief, maybe five minute, greeting before they were ushered in separate directions for the show. He had been gone, on a bus headed for Storybrooke, before the concert even drew to a close.

The very next day she was on an overseas flight to Europe.

Emma tore down the hallway, taking small pleasure as assistants and musicians alike threw themselves on either side of the narrow walkway, almost _repelled_ by the anger she was certain she was exuding. Kent's office was a large, clear block in the centre of the 25th floor. She wasn't a fan of the room, considering all four walls were clear glass and held absolutely _no_ privacy for those inside. Not even the doors bore a detailed smokey glass. Nothing but the clearest, most expensive of glass for _the_ Mr Kent Turnbull.

Which, now, allowed her to realise who was within that room. Stopping dead in her tracks, Henry - who had been trailing demurely behind - slammed into her back. He had never been in a building this fancy, except for their apartment block (of course), and couldn't help but feel highly self-conscious. _A sheep in a wolves den._ Everyone was dressed like his mum; - no leather jackets and skin tight jeans here - Blazers, pencil skirts and silk blouses hung off every woman he could see. In the clear office just ahead of them, he spotted Marian and Ruby along with a few other women he wasn't sure he had met before. They sat across from a tall, dark man in a navy suit whose hands seemed insanely large in comparison to the pen he was gesturing wildly with. The door read, _'Kent Turnbull - CEO Turnbull Records'._

Big-handed man (Kent) caught Emma's eye and gestured for her to enter, his large hand waving wildly. Henry wondered whether, had he the time, Kent could move his arms up and down, with hands flexed, fast enough to take flight. When his hand all but encased his mothers, followed by his own, he had no doubts.

Emma couldn't quite piece together the meaning of the meeting. Not only were both Ruby and herself present but Marian, Karli and Veronica also stood quietly off to the side. From this, she assumed the meeting to be regarding their tour - why else would they need the makeup artist and costume designer? - though that didn't help to clear the confusion considering they'd completed their tour weeks ago. Ruby and Marian were pale, their faces closed off and distant, which only worked to heighten her suspicion. She sat quietly in the empty chair beside them. Henry moved to stand at the back of the room.

No one questioned his presence.

"Nice of you to join us Emma, I'm sorry to impose in your time off."

When she didn't acknowledge his apology, he glanced nervously at the two women beside her, "as you know, we were planning on either extending the tour, or creating a 'behind the scenes' tour film to boost your fan base over the last year or so-"

"I do recall something like that, but I also recall us deciding that we were no longer in need of a 'boost'." They had increased their fan base tenfold throughout their tour. Sold out stadiums in Australia and Europe confirmed that. Regardless, they had filmed throughout as a fallback - just in case something like _this_ happened. He cleared his throat. _Kent wasn't a nervous man._

"Well, Marian and I have decided that the tour film would be a great way to let your fans know who you guys really are."

Emma wasn't surprised. The films weren't only of the tour. Most cameras throughout had been hijacked by either half of the musical duo at some point throughout the tour, and were no doubt filled with stupid videos of them behind stage. In Europe, she knew for certain that they'd taken one of the go-pro's to a club where they'd gotten completely smashed and stumbled home. Somewhere else, she knew, was a video of her mocking her mother - dressed in a satin Snow-White gown and yelling at Ruby for 'making out with her daughter'. Marian had mentioned this idea before, and they'd thought it brilliant. Her brows rose, _Why were they so pale?_

"Sounds good to me. But uh... Why did we need all of our tour crew for a meeting about something we already agreed upon?"

"That's the thing. This _mysterious_ little town of yours, it plays a huge role in the fan's intrigue with you," her stomach bottomed out, "you guys pulled the questionable relationship card out of your ass and saved our publicist a shit time covering up your romantic lives, which only boosted everyone's curiosity. Storybrooke's a gold mine. What better way to end a worldwide tour than the place it all began!"

By now, she was sure she was a copy-paste image of the two women beside her. Kent's teeth were white and large, contrasting his skin in the very same way the sun contrasts the moon. Out of everything she was expecting, every situation she had considered, this was not on the list. Kent's mouth stretched wider, more opposing white; _they won't know where it is, of course. We won't blow the secret._ She didn't want to go back there, not by herself and certainly not with camera and tour crews. The town was magical, for fucks sake. How the hell was she supposed to cover that up? _A small performance in a hall or a park or something. Somewhere that looks good, preferably._ Everything she had attempted to get away from, hide from, for the past two years was there. All her regret and abandoned hope in a single home on Mifflin Street. _It will be over in a week or two, tops._ Robin was there, what about Roland? What's going to happen with Belle and Ruby? Would Regina try and talk to her? Would she be ignored? Which would hurt more? _Excellent, thank you so much ladies. We leave a month tomorrow._ And like that, the home she had, the security established within it, had crumbled. The women left without a word, not even Henry brave enough to interrupt the silence, all with a single thought on their minds, _what is going to happen next._

* * *

"We obviously can't go, it's as simple as that."

Ruby's voice was hushed, wary of the snoozy 5 year old in Emma's room and the teen asleep just down the hall. They were seated around the blonde's coffee table, a bottle of wine split between the three.

"We honestly don't have a choice."

"This is completely fucked."

Silence descended upon them. She hasn't really spoken, too caught up in her own _what if's_ and _if that's_ that she hardly registered Marian and Ruby's conversation. Their manager was right - in this, they hadn't much of a choice. They knew this was a good idea. It was something to allow their fans, these people who have supported them from the very beginning and throughout their rise to fame, to get to know them. Get to see this town that inspired them to branch out and become the people they were today. Probably get to see the people who had shat all over their hearts.

Not that they would know that.

Henry had been ecstatic. He'd never seen them live before - at least for an entire concert. She tried to be happy for him, as excited as he was that she got to go back to their little town and perform for dwarves and witches and wizards and kings and queens and fairies.

She really tried to smile for him.

Marian received a text message a few hours earlier alerting them to the fact that Kent had sent out a press release regarding the announcement of their film, that was set to air within the next few hours. This meant he had contact with Snow to ensure themselves and their crews were welcome in the small town for a few weeks to film. If Emma had her phone on, she was sure to have numerous missed calls from her mother's number. The TV ran muted in the background, a news reporter's mouth no-doubt spouting Kardashian news monotonously. The women stayed silent.

Emma wasn't quite sure she knew how to handle this situation, to be honest. It felt as if she were numb, her emotions and thoughts overpowering each other until they all went as silent as the room the room they were in. Quiet and heavy with tension. When the silenced news reporter moved animatedly above a red banner reading, ' _Enchanted Forestry releasing behind the scenes tour'_ the women rose from the couches, Marian moving to join her son in Emma's room while she and Ruby made their way to the spare bedroom, stripping slowly as they went.

When the numbness remained, hours later, she lifted herself from around the brunette tangled in her sheets and pulled on her clothes. Then, she left. Walking as far from everything as she possibly could.

Somewhere, halfway along a rather populated street in Brooklyn, she realised she couldn't give less of a fuck about anything anymore. Not Storybrooke and its inhabitants, and especially not its brunette mayor.

She thanked God her superpower didn't work on herself.

* * *

The bar she found herself in was more on the dive side of the scale than the bar side. Fortunately, the bar patrons were far too intoxicated to even possibly recognise her face, if anyone knew her at all. She wasn't conceited, she knew she was famous - just not for her face. Which meant that so far, she'd had a rather pleasant time time in ' _The Dragon's Lair'._

Now onto her third gin and tonic, she took the time to appreciate the dressings of the place. She sat at a long, wooden bar with classic dive-lighting beneath the rim. Across from her, behind a familiar bartender, glass shelves on a mirrored wall reflected both the alcohol stacked upon them and the drunken patrons of the bar. Including herself, who - while still not yet looking a mess - had a pink tinge to the tops of her cheeks. At one end of the room, a pool table surrounded by mid-twenty year old's sat with rich green felt and a mahogany base. The walls were exposed brick, not rendered, not tamed. The thoughts of Regina and Storybrooke seemed much more blurry now.

After her fifth, Emma decided she _did_ know the woman behind the bar. She was usually insanely good with faces and names, it was once and integral part of her career. The woman's dark brown hair hung straight around her face, her chestnut eyes round and contrasting the forest green of her coat. There was something about her that struck a familiar chord within her. When she gestured for another, and the woman sidled over with a flirtatious smirk and slid across her tumbler, she caught sight of a birthmark on her wrist. _Look, now you're special too._

Her sixth saw her worked up enough to call the woman over and just _ask_ her who the hell she was. The glimpse of her right wrist, and her alcohol-induced blurred vision, didn't give much of an insight to the shape of the birthmark, just that one was there. Well aware of her slightly slurred speech (and her dutch-liquid courage), she watched the woman saunter over. When she reached the counter across from where she sat, Emma realised she hadn't thought once about Regina or the town she was set to return to.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

The bartender reached across for Emma's glass, replacing it with one of the two shot glasses she must have carried over with her. The blonde hadn't noticed, however, her eyes glued to the end of her wrist where a darkened star contrasted the otherwise pale skin. Following the other woman's lead, she took the shot back. _Did she recognise her?_

Brown eyes appraised her attire, Emma had thrown on whatever she found on her way out of the spare bedroom, ending up in her own tight black denim jeans and Ruby's extremely sheer white blouse. She thanked her past self for thinking to pull on a bra, the black lacy material completely visible through the material.

"So what brings a gal like you all the way out to a place like Brooklyn?"

the blonde smirked, "What makes you think I live somewhere else?"

The woman levelled her with a knowing glare, reaching over to refill both their glasses before settling her forearms on the bar. The blonde tilted her head, taking in the woman she hadn't quite expelled from her mind for over a decade. Feelings Emma hadn't questioned since childhood flourished in her chest, bringing with them nostalgia and memories she always cherished. She fought the urge to run her fingers over the flower on her left wrist, the crudest of her tattoos. Her first.

"So, got a name?"

Lily smirked, knocking back her second shot, "Starla."

She didn't need her superpower to see through that blatant lie, "Thats a great name… for a stripper. It doesn't suit you."

The other woman let out a bark of laughter, a tilt of her head acknowledging Emma's observation. She was caught in a feeling of comfortable familiarity and biting betrayal, though she had known long ago she had forgiven the woman for her actions. There was a glimmer of curiosity - flirtatiously driven and ill-placed - as brown eyes surveyed green. It was then she noticed a shard of recognition in the bartender's face, a quirk of her lips at the blonde's confident tone.

"Oh, and what _does_ suit me, then?"

"Something more exotic, I think." she frowned at her own words, perhaps she'd had a little more to drink than necessary.

"Hmm, like what?"

"Lily."

She barely reacted, trained as well as the blonde to keep her own face a mask of neutrality. They'd both perfected this over the years, a habit they'd developed stealing from convenience stores and manipulating themselves out of dodgy situations. It was only because Emma knew this habit well that she caught her sliver of panic. She looked to the countertop, staring hard at the blonde's untouched shot.

"I used to have a friend called Lily, you know." the brunette lifted her head, eyebrows creased in deep thought, "She had this birthmark on her wrist, even drew it on mine so we were both the same."

Lily's mouth opened, her eye's staring into her own with deep intensity before realisation washed over her.

"Emma? Emma Swan? No shit!" The brunette all but leapt over the bar, pulling a startled blonde into her arms. The blonde breathed in a scent she didn't know she'd missed until now. Lily had always smelled of salt water and musk.

"Hey."

"Don't hey me! I haven't seen you in so long. I tried to contact you for years, but I could never find you."

She shrugged, "They found me not long after we fell out, I was moved to Tennessee."

Lily nodded an understanding, her eyes still blown wide - disbelief that she may have very well been presented with a second chance. Fate be damned, she wasn't letting the woman go just yet. There was still so much she had never told her.

It was long after the bar's final patron stumbled out of its doors that the women realised they'd talked for nearing 4 hours. It felt, now, as if nothing had changed. That they'd never been torn apart.

It felt a lot like hope.

 _I heard you're some big shot celebrity now, huh? No time for common folk like me?_

 _I wouldn't say that._

 _Did you miss me?_

 _Every single day._

She left the bar at close to three o'clock in the morning, thoughts of Regina entirely banished and her phone buzzing with messages from a newly received number.


	6. Approximations and Surprises

**A/N: Sorry about the delay guys.  
I moved away to university and then tried to settle in, but ended up falling behind (where I still linger at this very moment)**

 **Enjoy! - Madi**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 - Approximations and Surprises**

In approximately 6 hours, 43 minutes and 29 seconds Emma Swan would be boarding a plane to Maine. In approximately 8 hours, 13 minutes and 28 seconds, she would be stepping off said plane into the city of Portland, stumbling into a black jeep, in a convoy much of the same, and setting off for Storybrooke. In approximately 10 hours, 15 minutes and 27 seconds, she would arrive in the same town she'd run from two whole years ago.

Currently, however, she was enjoying a rather nice stroll through Central Park.

Lily was a few steps ahead of her, the staggered lamp-posts illuminating her hair, catching on her bright, mahogany eyes and reflecting her smile. They'd barely spent a day apart since the night in the bar nearing a month beforehand. She wouldn't call what they had dating, though, not quite yet. It was a constant flirtation, a feeling ever-blossoming of _home_. It was smothered, shy smiles and bitten cheeks holding back life-held confessions. It was exactly what they had as kids, though almost more profound. There was a greater _muchness_ to their connection.

She sauntered behind her kind-of-girlfriend with her hands tucked firmly into the pockets of her leather jacket. She'd forgone her - now standard - heeled booties for her old pair of leather boots (that she had spent an hour looking for before she re-birthed them from the depths of her wardrobe). She blamed nostalgia for her regenerative sense of fashion. She blamed Turnbull Records for her nostalgia.

The woman, who had now reached the end of the mall and sat goofily on the edge of the Bethesda Fountain, smiled at her like she knew something was wrong. Emma had been quiet all night, silenced by both the anxiety of her approaching trip and worry with just how to tell the brunette. By this point, she felt safe to say they knew almost everything about the other. The blonde knew all of Lily's pet hates, guilty pleasures, secret habits and all of her exes. The other woman knew almost everything about her, too. Emma had told her of Neal, of her hatred of him - even when she loved his baby with all that she was. She knew of Killian, of Ruby. She knew all about Henry. She knew about her fleeing a town after a heartbreak she was sure would ruin her life.

But she didn't know of Regina.

Knowing this particular conversation was always to come, that it was inevitable, had her tied in knots. The knowledge that after a month of seeing each other everyday, she would be off for God knows how long in a town she hated, filled with fairytale characters including her almost-ex (ex-lover? Ex-fuck?) who Lily was yet to find out about, wasn't sitting very well with her at all.

She reached the brunette (far too soon for her comfort) the woman's eyes searching her for some kind of sign - a reassurance of her wellbeing. She smiled; reassuring, hopeful, _warm._ Emma sat on the cool stone beside her.

There was barely a soul around, other than the two women, even though it was yet to hit ten o'clock. In the distance, her ears were drowned with the sound of heavy traffic - a fading horn (a disgruntled taxi driver, someone headed to confess their feelings to the love of their life), a siren (police to a shooting, ambulance to a heart attack). If she looked up, she wouldn't see the stars, but instead towering buildings with lights uniform and equally as bright - though not to wish upon.

In Storybrooke, on the nights she sat on the docks, she believed she could see every single star in the galaxy. It hurt less to think about nowadays.

"Do you remember when I told you about the woman who broke my heart?"

"You mean the slutty bitch who didn't deserve any piece of you and sent you out of the first town you ever felt at home in?"

Emma chuckled at her tone, a pleasant buzz in her chest at the woman's protectiveness. Lily had always been brash - and the blonde often laid blame to her own sense of brazenness on the woman's shoulders. _She had missed her very first best friend._

"The exact same."

"Glad we're on the same page. Do continue."

She wanted to pull her non-existent, lengthy curls into a ponytail, tight and slick, to busy her hands. She wanted to fiddle with the badge that no longer hung on her belt loop to steady herself. She wanted the weight of a gun on her hip with the knowledge she was in charge. She settled, however, for Lily's palm on the top of her thigh.

"Her name was - is - Regina, and tomorrow Ruby, Marian, Me and a bunch of cam and tour crew are flying back to that town to film a home show."

The brunette stared, eyebrows raised - though not threateningly - and mouth shut. "What?"

"Tomorrow I'm flying back to a shitty little town in Maine called Storybrooke where Regina and Henry live to film something that neither Ruby nor I have any interest in doing, and I haven't mentioned it until now because I wasn't sure where this was going or when it was going to get there and it only hit me this afternoon that I hadn't mentioned it once to you, so this is me doing that now."

Panic Swan was not one to arise very often. As a bounty hunter, Emma learned how best to survey and evaluate a situation for both risks and hazards - essentially nullifying potential panic triggers. As a mother (and part-time sheriff with magic), she had learned to control and manage her emotions - how best to focus both herself and her magic. As a foster child, she had learned how best to repress emerging emotions - how to remain a blank canvas.

Apparently as a sort-of-girlfriend, she hadn't learned anything.

Lily's eyebrows were both simultaneously raised and creased in thought, her mouth hung open in an animated gasp - as if someone had snapped a photo just as a surprise member burst through a hollowed birthday cake. She felt as if this surprise was more of a _'your grandmother's dead'_ type deal, though. She couldn't quite piece together words for an apology.

"You've been to Storybrooke!?"

The shout startled the blonde, bringing her attention to the constant dribble of the fountain they were seated on. The monotonous trickling following the echo of the woman's exclamation, bouncing off of the polished stone of the Bethesda Terrace. The brunette righted herself, straightening her back and recomposed her features.

"Yes?"

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Her confusion was tangible, obvious in the crack of her voice, the drawing of her brows. Lily looked conflicted, her eyes bright even as they frowned and flickered to and fro as if spectating a tennis match. Occasionally her head would tilt _good point, brain_. Occasionally her frown would deepen. Dark eyes met her own.

"I can't believe you fucked the evil queen."

Alarm bells sounded in her brain, annoying and metronomic even as the brunette smiled in humour. Her heart leapt into her throat, an uneven (most definitely unhealthy) beat thumping her chest erratically.

"Wha- how do you- what are you saying?"

Lily laughed at the words, shifting closer to the woman and throwing an arm over her shoulders. While she hadn't retained her magic here in the city, Ruby had maintained her heightened senses - which had obviously become a burden as soon as they arrived, with New York not exactly offering a flower garden of scents. After meeting Lily for the first time, she had told the blonde the woman smelt familiar. Like a particular strand of magic she had scented before, a familiar odour that had once left a sour taste within her mouth. She had thought nothing of it - both women were as torn up about their impending journey 'home', that not even Ruby allowed herself to be bothered by such a revelation.

The blonde's face still hung slack, offhanded and shocked.

"Relax, Em. I know everything." She paused, "everything being the enchanted forest and the book, I mean."

In that moment, it was weird that anger was the first to take hold of her. She expected more confusion, or an abundance of worry. Maybe even overpowering fear. She wasn't angry at the woman, there wasn't a chance of that, but more in herself and her ridiculously uncanny ability to wind herself right back into the well-rehearsed game-plan of fate and her trusty reptilian-skinned sidekick.

"What the fuck? How?"

"Bad News is: it's a _really_ long story."

Emma rolled her eyes, rising to her feet and starting towards the street. She knew she was running, but she was running because she was god damn good at it. Endurance, in certain situations, she excelled at - like planks, or standing behind their set for 5 hours straight rehearsing. But running? She could do that all the time. And she could run almost anywhere.

Lily ran after her, halting her progress with a hand on her own looped arm. She spun the retreating woman around, searching her face until Emma's eyes connected with her own. One tanned hand on her waist, the other held her entranced with pressure to the back of her neck. Green eyes flickered from chocolate brown orbs to pale pink lips.

"You didn't wait for the good news," she smiled, "Good News is: I'll have plenty of time to tell you on the trip tomorrow."

Before she could protest, Lily placed a chaste, sweet kiss on the corner of her mouth and dashed away, leaving the blonde gaping and shell-shocked. It seemed another habit they shared, running. And while she couldn't see such a common interest a smart characteristic of _any_ healthy relationship, she couldn't quite wipe the smile off her face as she wandered home. Even as her apartment keys landed with a clutter on her bench-top and she was hit with the realisation she had yet to pack.

In approximately 8 hours, 59 minutes and 12 seconds, Emma Swan would arrive in Storybrooke, Maine.

* * *

She was cooking dinner - lasagna, in fact - when the bright red banner flashed precariously across the news screen. Her hand fumbled on the cutting board, the knife catching her finger as she stared at the white lettering, forming words she couldn't quite digest: _Enchanted Forestry to return home for an exclusive 'behind the scenes.'_ She dropped the blade onto the counter, staunching forward until she could hear the journalist.

Next week. The blonde, her 'entourage' of brunettes and groupies were set to arrive _next week._ Obviously, this had not been cleared through her. While both herself and Snow agreed upon a town with a cooperative and evenly divided leadership, it seemed the smaller woman found it completely acceptable to take matters involving the very _integrity_ of their _secret_ town into her own fragile, easily breakable hands. _Honestly, did the woman even think?_

Henry must've known. He was only ever distant when a Robin was around. Only ever withholding of information, unaffectionate and robotic when the man was in the house - whenever he saw them together. He retreated to his room, deaf to the voices of the house with a pair of earphones and Nirvana's 'In Bloom'. _Emma's ringtone._ She raised her injured finger to her mouth, splashing a metallic tang onto her tongue. A superficial, self inflicted wound. If she tried hard enough, she could easily place blame on the princess-turned-outlaw. She bit down hard on her finger, opening the shallow wound once more.

They lived in a town where magic, a concept completely mythical to this world, was a prominent aspect of everyday life. She invited camera crews, to film in a town where dwarves and fairies _co-exist_ with the dark one. She had _knowingly agreed_ to let a world-famous record studio take up residence within _their_ town and film not only the music duo, but their lives here - surrounded by creatures of myth.

She invited Emma Swan back into her life.

Granted, since the saviours' departure, no life-threatening magical villain had arisen from the depths of Once Upon a Time to terrorise their small town. But Regina felt, much like she did on the very first night of Emma's arrival, that this could very well change that. The blonde had an endless capacity for disassembling all that she had built for herself.

She held no bitterness, however. Emma had only ever hurt herself in the process.

She had half a mind to call Snow White demanding answers she was certain would bumble through the pale woman's lips as clumsily as her daughter, stumble and fall into a heap of nonsense before her own woman had ruined her life _twice_ now, and as the erratic beating in her chest - the thrum as her blood rushed through her veins and pounded in her ears - increased, she believed this could very well be the woman's _third._

Even as a child she'd never been able to explain her own foolish decisions.

Pushing the thought of Emma to the back of her mind, she began to plan. In seven days, a group of at least 25 people would enter Storybrooke. All of these people, but three ( _four_ , she thought with a pang, _if you count Roland_ ) wouldn't have a clue of the magical, mythical nor enchanted nature of their established little town. She had time to figure this out. The barrier around the town - disguising it from the world's general public - will have to be expunged, though that would take mere hours and could be done the day before their arrival. She would have to speak to Belle (rather than the imp himself) to ensure Rumple's cooperation in the town's running over their visitor's time here. The fairies, she decided, she could leave up to Snow.

From what little she'd seen, Emma Swan hadn't changed all that much. While magazines published candids upon candids of her smiling, or walking to or from Walmart at some ridiculous time of night, or captured her smirking at the mesmerising lights of New York City, she'd always looked unchanged, as though someone had simply photoshopped her from the dock - late on a Friday night - and put her in the middle of Times Square.

Selfishly, Regina wished she was different. She wished that Emma left town _simply_ because she broke her heart. She wished that Emma Swan had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love with her - the kind of love that leaves a permanent scar of heartbreak - and that since then, she couldn't have found happiness.

Somewhere, part of her knew that that may very well be the case.

Suddenly, a week didn't seem all that long. It felt like she had all too much to do before then. Maybe a haircut? A manicure? A new outfit?

It never occurred to her before just how badly she needed Emma to believe she was happy.


	7. Home is Where Your Heart Lies

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the chest hair**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 - Home Is Where Your Heart Lies**

The truck rumbled beneath them, easily navigating through the maze of potholes and loose gravel littering the very last portion of the highway from Portland to Storybrooke. Numerous times, now, she had heard the driver mutter under his breath something along the lines of 'bad feelings' and 'warning us off'. She wanted to reach forward, pull his hands from the wheel and let them drive off the road. She wanted to convince him to turn around, bribe him with a sum of money ' _I could make the rest of your life'._ She wanted to be asleep like Ruby and Lily - the former's head nestled on her shoulder, the latter's hand grasped tight in her own - to remain as blissfully unaware of their proximity to the town.

Lily had been excited, and Emma could see why. It had taken the entire plane ride, and half of the car trip for the brunette tell her story - the story of a girl, abandoned by her mother (Maleficent, who she hadn't _really_ killed) and found in a world completely foreign, forever in a search of home. They were one in the same, and she couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards the other woman. They were far too alike to not have their lives intertwined.

She just wasn't quite sure how intimately.

The trees were a blur of green outside of the window. There was no beauty in the mess of colours, the shapeless leaves and melting branches. She never really appreciated the scenery of Maine; she never had the chance - not that first night, driving her ten year old son home from Boston, or the night, years later, when she drove him back again following pan's curse, this time knowing exactly what Storybrooke was.

And who was there.

She never appreciated its beauty there, either. Always too caught up with her evolving relationship with Henry, having to stop whatever mythical or magical menace who had decided to take on their town. Too busy pining after her best friend, collapsing under the weight of the fate-deligated role of 'Saviour'. She wished she had taken the time; then, maybe, she would have had the opportunity to excite Lily, to exaggerate the beauty of the evergreens, how they glistened after a summer storm, the way the branches hung beneath the heavy burden of winter following a freezing Winter day. She wanted to excite her, tell her the grandeur of Regina's apple tree, tell her of her very first day when she had answered the very woman in nothing but a tank and underwear - presented with a basket of apples.

She wished she could fathom the strength to tell her of her tiny, waterside apartment, with its shitty view of the harbour that never once failed to make her smile every morning.

When the car finally rolled to a stop, minutes after zooming past the battered welcome sign and navigating easily into the town's main road, she felt she could let out a breath. Her emotions flitted chaotically from anger to relief, reverence to melancholy over and over until they settled, twitching and disorganised, on her most violent. She wasn't angry at the town, or her parents, her family. She wasn't even angry at Regina, although she was sure the next week or so would be filled with bitter barbs and words of hate. Rather, she was angry at herself for ever thinking she could be good enough for the woman,for ruining her relationship with her best friend. If she had been stronger, held onto her feelings as thoughts of her own - to be kept close but never spoken - this never would have happened.

Stepping out of the car, Emma was hit full force with the familiar - and surprisingly not all unwanted - scent of fall in Maine. It was a smell of salt water, crunched leaves, wet pavement and home. A smell accompanied by a feeling she simultaneously wanted to keep forever and banish from her chest. They were parked around the corner from Granny's, the morning light catching the wet pavement in a way that shouldn't make her feel so comfortable. Her chest all but collapsed on itself as she took in the building - unchanged in her two year absence. Ruby had taken off, her excitement of seeing her grandmother overshadowing the fear of running into the woman she had run from. Lily had a tight grasp on her hand, but stood unmoving beside her. The rest of the crew, it seemed, had a similar idea. They stood at a distance, watchful eyes regarding her - surveying her actions. Would they go inside? What was happening next?

Somewhere in the distance, Emma could hear the tell-tale signs of Michael's Mechanic, working hard before even half the town had opened its eyes for the day. She knew, even after all this time, that the lost boys would be up and about, causing havoc around Hook's ship. She knew, from her years as Sheriff, that they would do so without getting caught, even if she watched the entire thing - they were just _that_ good.

The thought made her smile.

"Auni' Em!" Roland escaped Marian's arms, who looked pale and uncomfortable in the small town, and ran towards her. Once he was secure in her arms, held close to her chest, he snuggled down - content. All of a sudden Emma knew that this visit - as bittersweet as it was - was good for her. She needed to be home. She needed to heal. She needed to move on. "Are we gonna get pancakes?"

"You know what, bud?" she shifted him to her right arm, reaching to grasp Lilly's hand with her left - she needed that comfort. The comfort that she had come to provide. "I think we just might."

When she stepped toward the diner determined, with Roland in her arms and Lily grasping her hand, she felt a minute lapse in her anxiety. A relief from her worry. When her team followed, she felt renewed - a Queen and her army, marching to battle; knowing they could leave victorious.

* * *

She wished she could have woken this morning oblivious of the coming day. She wished the preparation - day after day - of this visit had simply slipped her mind, and she had rolled over in Robin's arms, kissed him good morning. She wished that she could be as unaware of the impending party, and its leading woman, as the rest of the town. More than that, however, she wished she could calm her fidgeting muscles, tear her finger nails from between her teeth and just _eat_ like everyone else in the God damn diner.

Noticing her increasing anxiety, Robin had opted to take Regina and Henry out for breakfast, which she had unknowingly agreed to, ignoring his words and nodding her head while her thoughts took a whirlwind spin. Emma was coming to town, which meant that she could no longer push thoughts and memories of _that_ evening to the back of her mind. She couldn't ignore it; it had happened. She could no longer disregard the fact she had _betrayed_ her fiancé. She could no longer pretend she regretted it.

Her french toast sat messed, but uneaten, as she prodded it rhythmically with her fork. Henry had vacated the booth after all but _inhaling_ his pancakes in excitement of his other mother's arrival, and dashed to the back of the diner where he held a captivated conversation with Snow. If Robin had noticed her distress, he had yet to act on it - shovelling food into his mouth as though he hadn't eaten three servings of her meal the night before. His brows were tightly knit as he concentrated on moving the fork from his plate to his mouth with increasing speed. He was wearing his typical colour, a forest green button up with beige trousers, though he had left his first few buttons of his shirt open; providing everyone in a five-foot-radius a view of his chest hair. Three years ago, she would've found that attractive - a trait of a real man, one who wore his hair with pride. Now, it bugged her, it almost _repulsed_ her.

She wasn't sure when that had begun, but she couldn't help but compare the feel of his chest against her hands to that of her best friend's.

It wasn't much of a competition.

As her eyes lingered on the abundance of blonde, wiry hairs that crowded Robin's exposed chest, she noticed a leather cord; long and holding contents concealed just below the first button. _How had she not noticed before?_ She wasn't sure how long she stared, curious as to what hung on its end, but she never quite reached a conclusion. When he finished his own plate, and she slide hers slightly towards him, he reached over to pull it to himself, his shirt dipping just low enough for Regina to catch a glimpse of a white gold band. _Did Robin still have his wedding ring?_

The loud jangle of the entrance bell jarred Regina, pulling her from her thoughts. Immediately, her head whipped around - both highly anticipating the arrival of the blonde and demanding fate allow another twenty minutes of peace. She couldn't explain her disappointment however, when Ruby skipped through - running straight into the kitchen. She didn't look away, not when those around her questioned the sight of the woman, not when they got up, hearing Granny's happy cries, and rushed to the counter. She didn't dare tear her eyes from the glass of the door - though it was blurred in her vision, the sun marring the glass into a smear of yellow mixed only by her ever-increasing heart rate; her racing thoughts. She hadn't even noticed the approach before the jangle rang a second time.

The Emma Swan before her was not a woman she recognised. In place of her standard brown, thigh-high boots, this woman stood tall, the height of a model, in black stilettos _-_ strappy and _insanely_ feminine. Her hair was cut short, almost as short as her own when the woman had first arrived in Storybrooke, but this didn't at all take away from her femininity. _She was breathtaking._ She fiddled with her fingers, spinning her engagement ring over, and over, and over, and over until it fell from her hand. She didn't dare bend to pick it up, not when jade eyes met her own, not when pale, thin lips quirked in an awkward, entirely-Emma smile.

In her arms, Roland chattered, his hands tangled in the blonde hair. Others had entered behind her, but she didn't dare look away from those emerald orbs. Her face quirked in some semblance of a smile in return, but she doubted it resembled anything but a weak grimace. She registered Robin shifting across from her, and only then noticed the person to the blonde's right. Marian stood imposingly, her own appearance shocking Regina to the very core. This was no longer a weak, step-ford wife, but rather a strong, confident woman who exuded a demanding air mirroring that of her own. She stood as though she had no apologies, she did what she wanted and returned no regrets. Emma's left hand was wrapped tightly around another brunette's, a pale thumb rubbing comforting circles on a tanned knuckle. The other woman was obviously uncomfortable, thrust out of her comfort zone and into a room of complete strangers. She pulled closer to Emma, taking comfort in the simple closeness the movement provided. Regina's breath caught, the blonde turned and smiled brightly at the woman, pulling her even closer.

All at once, her thoughts collided. Emma had finally arrived, and with her brought her own fiancé's ex-wife. She wasn't the woman she was before, she was missing something - the softness hidden deep within her eyes has gone, the golden hues that once danced and fluttered beneath the green was muted when she had looked at her. Roland had once seen her as another mother, a friend, the best thing in the world. Now he hung off Emma, barely registering her face as his hazel eyes passed her over. Her fiancé still wore his wedding ring, the one item that tied him to his past, to the woman now standing at the opposite side of the room. Her heart thumped loudly into her throat, painful with each convulsion, as she watched Emma and the woman interact - why did it affect her so much?

The stillness of the room broke with Henry running to embrace his mother. After that was chaos. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered Snow wailing in delight, just as Emma became surrounded by the diner's occupants.

Drawing her attention, Robin wiped his mouth and excused himself from the table, disappearing easily into the crowds. She didn't ask any questions, not after she had seen the look of hurt darkening his gaze when his son didn't leap from Emma's arms to greet him. She could sympathise, though. There was a time when her own son preferred the blonde over herself.

She sat in silent anxiousness for what seemed like an eternity, as the once lazy morning sun rose higher into the sky, painting the room in shadows. Her mind flopped back and forth between wondering where the hell her fiancé was and who the hell the other woman was. Emma was never one for affection, even in moments of deep sadness as she confessed the worst of her past - the worst of the homes - she refused Regina's affection. _Why did this woman earn that?_ She had never seen the diner this crowded before, filled almost solely with those of the duo's crew. The questions flooding the room and tormenting her brain were all the same; _how was your tour? Who came up with the name? What was your inspiration?_

When the crowd had thinned, nearing midday, Regina had finally worked up the courage to approach the blonde and her partner. They had decided on a friendship, which (often reluctantly) included the occasional conversation. She ignored the rumble of her stomach as she pushed through a group of men she barely registered - instead focusing entirely on the blonde. Emma turned instinctively just as she reached her side. They had always been able to tell when the other was near; _a psychic connection,_ they had once joked, _maybe_ I'm _your soulmate, Regina._ She used to laugh it off; ' _wouldn't that be hilarious_. She used to ignore the barely hidden flash of pain in the blonde's emerald eyes.

Her chest hurt.

"Regina! you're still here."

she smiled, cordially, hoping that maybe she could summon an ounce of warmth to her eyes, "Of course. I hadn't had the chance to welcome you back."

The mysterious woman still clung to Emma's left, grasping her hand as a lifeline even as she remained caught in a conversation with the blonde's mother. The former friends settled into an uncomfortable silence, both turned with their backs to the bar, surveying everyone else. If this had been another time, Regina would have muttered something about the way Snow had fawned over her - _Mummy's little princess_ \- and Emma would have rolled her eyes, returning with something equally as insulting - _Remove your head from your ass, Your Majesty._ She wanted to joke, to rebuild their fragmented friendship (if you could even call it that) - pick up the pieces and stitch together some _semblance_ of a common ground. She itched to laugh like they used to, and now that the woman was home - here in the very same town - she craved that easiness. The one she always associated with Emma Swan. They remained silent.

Emma left not long after, excusing herself and the mysterious brunette under the guise of 'reuniting' something or other. She had to bite her lip to stop herself spouting a barb ( _still a saviour then, Swan?)_ and decided it was time for them to depart as well. Henry was staying with the blonde tonight, not that it was discussed, but rather assumed - so she searched for Robin.

She found him, hidden away in the corner and speaking quietly with Marian, his face drawn in earnest, hers emotionless and dull. His wedding ring tightly gripped and flashing in the waning sun, her fists clenched by her side. She left alone, not quite emotionally prepared to deal with whatever the hell was happening around her, and tears threatening to ruin her meticulous makeup.

When Robin returned that night, slightly drunk and smelling of rum, Regina slept in the spare bedroom.


	8. Where the Saviour Needed Saving

**A/N: It's been quite a while but I very much lost my passion for writing in my struggle to not fail my first semester of university.**

 **I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, its very much a filler and a background into Emma's current emotional state. It is also very short.**

 **Let me know how you guys liked it.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8 - Where the Saviour Needed Saving**

The trip to the Rabbit Hole following the reuniting of her girlfriend and her mother wasn't planned. When Lily and Maleficent got to talking, Emma was struck with a vivid pain of familiarity and loss, and at the time, a drink hadn't seemed like a bad idea. Maybe it wasn't. But the traipse down a bottle-shop aisle in search of anything with a higher alcohol percentage than 16%, four-bourbons-in, probably was.

She didn't know much about wine, she was never well-educated. Regina had tried, on multiple occasions, but had given up, quickly growing tired of her indifference. Emma's knowledge of wine circulated on a basic, primitive level; if it was red, cheap, and over 8 standard drinks, she was down. Fortunately, Storybrooke's selection of wine was rather pitiful (Regina ordered hers from the outside) and the blonde was on her way to her destination with an eight dollar bottle of Shiraz much sooner than she thought.

Her apartment hadn't changed.

Regardless of the fact it had been vacated for over two years, without a single resident, nothing was different. The kitchen bench, a murky green, still clashed with the orange cupboards. The curtains that were still thick and muted, hung limp and filled with dust. The couch she may have accidentally spent a night on multiple times (mostly with Regina, but she tried not to remember that) still sat on an awkward angle to the window, facing a space that still looked empty with the presence of a television. It was all overly familiar; like returning to a childhood bedroom or favourite place you'd forgotten until stumbling upon it once more by accident. Only, it wasn't a feeling of nostalgia she was overcome with. Rather, a pain so raw and unhealed it almost stopped her in her tracks.

Almost sent her back to New York.

Emma couldn't quite fathom why the hell she would bring herself back here. Whether it was the bourbon or the half finished bottle of wine clasped in her hand that persuaded the journey, she wasn't too sure. She knew this would happen; knew the pain and loneliness harboured in this place would surround her - a poltergeist of bitterness and anger that permeated the rooms with a liquor splashed scent. She knew she would find herself in a similar state. More (though far from completely) sober, this time, and helpless to deal with the thundering emotions thrashing violently in her head. She wished she hadn't left Lily and Maleficent. She couldn't be alone here.

She couldn't remember ever feeling that broken. As if each and every individual organ within her body had cracked, and began seeping through the pores of her skin. Her throat so raw, her eyes screaming for tears she no longer could produce. The bottle of jack in her hand, transformed now from her Shiraz, was far from full - the liquid sloshing loudly with every slight shift on the arm of her couch. If she thought about it, she couldn't actually remember much from that night, but a single voicemail.

 _Miss Swa- Emma. I see you've been avoiding me, but... We need to talk. It was a mistake, and I'm sure we were both rather drunk. Can you_ please _stop acting like a child and return my calls? I..._

Those last words were ones she decided not to dwell on. There was an ambiguity within them, a verbal stumble that send Emma into a mental frenzy. _I will see you later. I miss you_. And that one tiny part of her, the one she cuffed, caged and smuggled to the back of her brain spoke up; _love you. I adore you. I need you._ all but placing the bottle in her hand.

Henry wasn't supposed to be there that night. He wasn't supposed to walk in without his mother - hunched over a lyric journal, messily drunk and sobbing - noticing his presence. When she had given him his own key, she had expected him to use it. Just not at one o'clock on a Wednesday morning.

She wasn't sure how to act, not when her fourteen year old was staring at her - not with pity but with sadness - and approaching with an extended hand of help. She didn't know what to do when he pulled the journal from her hands and began to read, though she was slightly mortified her son was discovering his thirty year old mother had a journal in the first place. He knew about her taste for music, it was inevitable when she owned a battered, brand-less guitar that stood proudly in the living room - impossible to hide when she sought the wire strings as comfort when her world was decomposing.

And recently, there hadn't been a time when it wasn't.

She was at a loss for words when he finished, looking up at her with tearful eyes and a smile, _Ma, these are really good!_ , so instead she sobbed, and pulled him tightly to her chest with nothing but complete and utter reverence for the boy the woman she loved had raised. When she had calmed enough, and sobs turned into a sniff and red-lined eyes, he pulled back and asked her to play them for him.

When he left that night, she was in a similar position to now; draped over the teal lounge with tears in her eyes and a half empty bottle of liqueur on the floor beside her. Though, at the time she had a position to reconsider; to leave or to stay. Two years of small-town life had settled her stallion-spirit, or something equally as cliche and cringe-worthy. She worked so hard to quell Henry's fear of her disappearing, and now he was encouraging it, _I just need you to be happy, Ma. And right now? Being here isn't doing that for you._

That boy was far too wise for his years.

That was a conversation she'd had with Regina once, following a banter that had Henry pulling barbs seemingly from his brunette mother's repertoire with an ease Emma had never seen before, on a similar subject matter. _He's most definitely_ your _son, Regina._ Expecting return, as always from the queen, she had turned to face the woman. She didn't, however, expect the look in her eyes; a look so sincere and unspoken and _warm_ it sent Emma's heart in a flurry and her breath short. Because she'd seen her look at Henry before in a similar way, she'd seen the warm, honey-like trickle when he said he loved her, or hugged her without preemptive.

Directed at her, it felt like home.

The bottle of wine was just within reach, and once she clasped the opening with the very tips of her fingers she pulled it close and drank deep. She wished she had listened to Regina about that wine picking; this one was bitter, thick and acidic. Though that could be a result of its lack of oxygen exposure (she _was_ drinking straight from the bottle). The one thing she retained from Regina's incessant forcing of knowledge was that red wine was required to breath in order to emphasise and improve its flavour. White wine was the opposite, needing far less exposure to expose hidden flavours in its layers and Emma wasn't a fan, so her cupboard in New York held a flurry of wide-mouthed wine glasses and very few narrow - for times when her mother would visit (God knows Snow only drank the purest of whites)

She drank anyway, because she was nothing but determined; especially when it came to destructive habits like drinking (or running away). Emma thought she had outgrown the running thing, and maybe she had, but she could still feel that little fifteen year old girl niggling at her brain, the little voice telling her to get the _fuck_ out of dodge just when she began to settle. She hadn't really had it in New York, perhaps because she merely returned there, and it had been a welcomed loss. In Storybrooke it was curbed, overshadowed by her highly competitive nature and a _need_ to prove Regina wrong.

She had felt the pull then, the one that unhinged her life with the ease of wind ruffling a feather - convinced herself it was hatred. She could see why, commitment had been a fear instinctual to her nature and no feeling had ever had her wanting a family, wanting to settle down and make a mark on her life, more than that pull.

She wondered if Regina had felt that today. That _pull_ when their eyes locked. Emma had damn well felt it, and for the first time in two years, her instinct of flight had kicked her right in the ass. And if she did feel that twinge, the ache in her chest, Emma thought, she wished it would hurt a lot less that she _still_ went home with Robin. She could see it now; his arms engulfing her tiny frame, her silky chocolate locks fanned on his chest. (They'd slept like this before, Regina and herself, and she'd selfishly hoped the brunette was never as affectionate with Robin as she was with her).

She hated herself that, even with the comfort of Lily, she still craved that woman.

The dregs of her wine were grainy and warm. The flecks of sedimentation stuck to her teeth and tongue, bitterly clinging to the walls of her mouth. She wanted to call Lily or Ruby, wanted to lose herself in a woman's flesh - to bury this _pull_ deep within another, massage it well within their darkest walls. She wanted to rid her mouth of this hideous taste, replace it with the essence of a brunette - all the while knowing such a flavour would never compare to that of Regina.

Wow, she was _fucked._

She had no doubt the walls of this room knew just how true that statement was.

In the morning, she woke on the couch to a taste of stale wine, the glaring of the sun and stiff muscles. On the screen of her phone (clasped tightly in her right hand, the wine tucked to her torso with the left) was an unsent message _you busy?_ to Lily. Thanking whatever god that seemed to be looking out for her, she deleted it. As her eyes drifted shut once more, her phone began to buzz.

"Hello?" her voice was weak, her throat parched and sticky.

"Emma? I- We have a problem. Meet me at Town Hall."

If Regina's tone hadn't been so urgent, nor her manner so harried, Emma may have considered ignoring the call. Without a word nor care to the pounding of her head (or the unavoidable awkwardness sure to follow all this), she rose from the couch. Something in the way she spoke sparked a fear in Emma. Something that took her back to panicked phone calls to the sheriff's office about missing dogs or cats stuck in trees. Something that resonated even further, to a foliage-laden jungle and two mother's driven desperate in search of their only son.

Something was severely wrong, and she had a feeling that this was going to be a lot harder to deal with than a simple runaway dog.


	9. Hating a Saviour Complex

**A/N: Once again, a rather large wait. I've been super sick, so I've had some time to try and catch up a little bit... This chapter was actually really fun to write so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did.**

 **I'm thinking of trying to speed this fic up a little bit, so after chapter 10, shit is hopefully going to hit the fan and we're going to have some SQ after all. I made a plan and everything ;)**

 **Enjoy guys**

* * *

 **Chapter 9 - Hating a Saviour Complex**

Walking the path from her apartment to the town hall (after the realisation she had abandoned her ride and opted for a drunken stroll home), Emma was overcome with an all too familiar sensation. A heaviness in the air, an unnatural shift in the wind. Her stomach fluttered with uncertainty; The familiarity resonating with a forgotten memory, unrecognisable in her minds eye _._

She pulled her jacket tight around her shoulders, happy she'd remembered to snatch it from the bench on her way out of the door - while it was cold, she wasn't yet sure she wanted Regina to see _all_ of her tattoos up close and personal.

Not just yet, and maybe, not ever.

After clearing Regina's secretary - a man that knew her for her fame and not the woman who, years before, hadn't blinked an eye when she let herself into the mayor's office - and biting down whatever insecurities she held, Emma entered the woman's space, and came face to face with realisation. Regina's eyes shone with memories of a Queen, commanding and vengeful from the height of a towering castle; they reflected a fear of loss and the deep greens of a canopied forest, littered with magical traps and mother's worry.

The feeling was magic. And it was strong.

"Emma."

She smiled, but didn't speak. She didn't trust her voice, not when she caught the hope in Regina's voice - that hitch that sounded a lot like office lunches, and jokes and _home_. She did nod, though, in hopes she would continue.

"I'm really sorry I called, but I didn't have much of a choice. There's a problem… I'm going to need your help."

This flutter in her stomach was unrelated to the familiar feeling, disconnected from the thickened atmosphere. Instead it related much more closely to the nostalgia of this room, the smile in chocolate eyes, the timid upturn of red-painted lips. It was a flutter filled with promises already broken and hope who's light had already dimmed. As they turned to leave, following a brief explanation on the brunette's part, Emma's eyes snagged a glint - an anomaly resting upon the dark wood of Regina's desk. That flutter travelled, unannounced, to rest in the cavity between her heart and her ribcage where it expanded and filled her with that unwanted glow. Though her body revelled in its recurrence, she forced her mind to neglect thoughts of its previous arrival and the heartbreak in which followed. All at once, Emma felt as if she were just a woman, needlessly and irrevocably in love with her best friend all over again.

Only this time, she was a woman returned to a town where the once-love of her life had a fiancé and she never stood a chance.

That would've been easier to believe if she hadn't noticed the brunette's bare finger and the flash of that white gold ring perched delicately upon the wood of the desk.

* * *

The wall of ice stood as a prominent contrast to the dreary, grey sky - characteristic of their tiny town. While it was expected, Emma couldn't help but marvel at its construction; the loops and arches of ice composing an almost artistic form of architecture towering high over the trees of the surrounding forest.

Regina was tense, twisting her fingers anxiously in a visible reaction to the tension in the air, much more potent here than further in town. This was a tell-tale sign of the woman's anxiety - one she hadn't recognised until years into their budding friendship. Now, it never went unnoticed. Chocolate eyes flicked from the structure to the blonde before her, voicing an unspoken question as to what the _hell_ they were supposed to do now.

"How long has it been here?"

Startled at the sudden break in silence, Regina righted herself before responding, "I'm not too sure. I felt... Something yesterday right after you arrived, but I couldn't be sure it was..."

Choosing not to continue the sentence, the two women were once more sorely reminded of their circumstance and the actions that brought them here. The tension she spoke about now fluttered between the possibility of the arrival of the magical wall, and the arrival of the blonde herself - sparking a tension.

"This… uh." Clearing her throat, Emma attempted to retrieve an atmosphere more reminiscent of what they were now - being a still-slightly-drunken blonde and a controlling, brick wall of a mayor - rather than what they could possibly have been, "This is going to be a problem."

Regina's head flicked up, "How much of a problem?"

The blonde pulled her phone from her pocket, frowned hard at the screen, and tucked it away once more. Shoving her hands deep into her front pockets, Emma surveyed the area, looking for anything that could perhaps give them some wind of what was going on, "Well, filming starts in an hour and a half, and unfortunately I have a crew of _naive_ non-magical, very _real_ human beings as my camera-men. So, I'm gonna say its pretty large."

The older woman's head spun. She'd forgotten why Emma was here in the first place; too caught up in this whirlwind of emotion she had swept right back into her life. Watching her face now, she thought perhaps she'd made the entire thing up alone - maybe she was making it up to be more than it was.

Yet she refused to wear his ring.

 _Stop_. Right now, she had a lot more to worry about than marrying her soulmate and possibly spending the remainder of her life unhappy. Without a lead to this incident and the very real threat of the capture of some kind of magical occurrence which could unveil all of Storybooke to the world, she really was quite flustered. She was going to need more help.

More magic.

"I have an idea. Call Marian and Ruby and meet me at Gold's shop in an hour. We're going to need a plan, and I have a feeling we're going to need everyone's help."

Even while she nodded and bid goodbye to Regina, Emma's stomach knotted terribly. This was going to be painful. Because where there was a beast, there was a beauty not far behind. Ruby would be impossibly caught between a rock and a hard place. And in that uncomfortable situation, Emma remained stuck as she always was in the drama of this tiny fucking town.

She was glad liquor was cheap at the local bottle-shop, because she had a feeling she might very well be spreading herself rather thin.

* * *

The room had never felt as cluttered nor musty, regardless of the fact there wasn't a single, extra item stacked on the towering shelves. Rather, it was filled with mixed tensions and awkwardness as Emma, Marian, Ruby and Regina awaited Mr. Gold's appearance. In the back room, there was a shuffle of feet and the sound of heeled shoes, and before Emma could shoot a warning glance at Ruby, Belle bounced through the red velvet curtain.

If the blonde were a cat, she could have sworn she would have hissed.

The brunette's blue eyes searched for contact with Ruby's, her mouth angling with words she wanted to speak - words the blonde prayed to god she would keep silent. Ruby was pale, eyes drawn to a space somewhere on the wooden floor between her feet. The room became even more chokingly awkward.

Emma coughed pointedly.

Belle jumped.

"Ahh, ladies. Nice to see you back in Storybooke, Sheriff." If she had ever been thankful for the presence of that man's face, it was now.

"Wish I could say the same" Emma returned, earning a smirk from Regina as they moved before him.

"It seems we have a problem, Rumple." the once-mayor was blunt, most likely as uncomfortable in the suffocating tension as she was herself.

"That's nice. Good for you."

"You're going to help us."

"I don't owe you anything, Your Majesty."

"Don't play that card with me, Imp. You'd do well to remember it was _your_ doing that has us all here in the first place."

"I didn't cast the curse, Deary."

Regina's eyes flared and Emma had already become frustrated enough in the waste of their ever-dwindling time to avoid yet another of the two ex-villains' altercations, "look, I know this isn't the most ideal of situations. Have a look at who's in this room. You've got an ex-wife to a current fiancé, two ex-" her hands gestured wild towards Belle and Ruby, who now stared awkwardly at one another "-whatevers and two estranged best friends working together here so the least you can do is cut us a little fucking slack so we can help protect Storybrooke from becoming a world-wide news headline and ruining the lives of every single person here."

Rumple laughed, though whether at the her frustration or her audacity, she couldn't be sure. He calmed, however, when he noticed the strained look on the two mother's faces. Clearing his throat, he limped closer to the counter and rested his hands on the glass top.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Regina, having recovered from Emma's slight outburst, spoke up, "We have a visitor. There's an…."

"Ice wall. Around the entire town pretty much." Emma finished, glancing hurriedly at the clock on the wall.

"An… ice wall?"

"That's what I said. There is an honest to god, ice-cube wall around Storybrooke. A full blown, lemonade icy-pole, Elsa-made, Game of Thrones fucking structure bordering the town." at her own words, Emma gaped. In this fucking town, it very well _could_ be the blonde Queen.

Regina seemed to take this into consideration as well, "Well, we have a suspect at least."

The man frowned, considering her words. Turning slightly he gestured for the women to follow him into the back room, muttering something about a book and some kind of magical tracing spell.

Unfortunately, this left Ruby, Belle and Marian to continue in uninterrupted silence.

Clearing her throat, Marian took a single step backwards. Ruby levelled a warning glare.

"Well, ladies. This seems to be on its way to being controlled so… I'm just going to-"

"Me too!" the waitress screeched, leaping from her spot resting against the counter.

"Ruby wait!" halted by her name on the beauty's lips, her breath slammed from her lungs. She barely registered the bell chiming as Marian made her escape.

Taking a deep breath, and cursing herself for not mentally preparing _in the slightest_ for this inevitable conversation, she turned around. Belle was just as breathtaking, if not more so, than when she had first seen her. It was a pity that guilt, or at least the guilt Ruby had hoped she had felt, hadn't lain a mark on her skin (she tried not to think that it hadn't effected the woman at all.)

Belle blushed under the scrutiny, "Hi."

"What do you want, Belle?"

"You look good. We haven't spoken in a while. I was worried about you." her smile was bright, encouraging, stunning. She wished it didn't still effect her so much. She wished she could be stronger than she was.

"Yeah, and why do you think that is?"

"I didn't need it to be over-friendly, I just wanted to see how you are. I still care about you, Ruby. I always will."

she scoffed, "That's real fucking _sweet_ of you Belle. To care about me and all."

"What is _with_ you? You're acting crazy."

"You wouldn't even know how I've been acting. Its been _two years_ , Belle? Did you expect me to remain _exactly the same_ like everyone in this fucking town?" she paused, "Like you?"

Ruby hated herself for the regret she felt at those last words. Hated herself for the look of hurt flickering across the woman's sapphire eyes.

"I've changed, Ruby. We all have. And if you'd just _talk to me_ for once, instead of letting your _girlfriend_ lie to me every time, you would have known this."

"My _girlfriend_?" She almost laughed out loud. _almost._

"Emma?"

This time she did laugh, though it was bitter and hollow and not at all what Belle was accustomed to hearing. (though she shouldn't have expected anything else, this situation was far from ideal), "Emma and I are _not_ dating."

"But… all the magazines."

"We fuck, Belle." It was low, she knew that, going for shock value - throwing punches just to hit, "That's what we do."

"Oh." _Ruby - 1, Belle - 0_

"Yep."

"Well maybe if you'd talked to me I would've have known that."

" _Are you fucking kidding me?"_ she had never been quick to anger, though she _could_ argue that the woman across from her had never before been quick to stupidity. (she knew that wasn't fair, but she wasn't about to calm down about it)

"What? I'm _trying_ to be civil here."

" _Are you?"_ the anger was vibrating hot in her, and she knew she would have to leave before she completely lost it. There were _far_ too many glass object around her for that. "Are you really trying? Because last time I checked, confessing your love to someone and promising them a life and then up and leaving them as soon as a 'preferred' option becomes available is fucking _far_ from civil."

Expecting anger, or at least some kind of rise, Ruby reared up. Belle, however, was never one to rise to a challenge. She preferred indiscreet, subtle notes of lividity - hidden undertones of emotion, "That is _not_ what happened."

"You told me you loved me."

"I did! I still do!"

"Then why the fuck did you leave me for him?" She wasn't sure what her emotions were doing, but they were a clusterfuck in the middle of her stomach, tossing bile up into her throat.

"Ruby, you don't understand. He changed. He promised me that he had. I _had_ to give him another chance."

"And that makes it okay?"

"He deserved another chance."

"And I deserved what?"

Belle hesitated, obviously evaluating where she could steer this conversation that wouldn't completely deteriorate any consideration of a friendship that remained. (She wasn't aware that the concept of that was no longer plausible in the other's mind)

"I didn't want to lose you, Ruby."

"Well, you kind of did."

The woman huffed, finally frustrated at the other woman's lack of consideration "We said we would be _friends_ , Ruby. I was expecting _some_ kind of communication."

"Well I was expecting _some_ kind of humanity, but I guess we can't always get what we want."

Taken aback, Belle quietened for a moment. Ruby looked for a regret, or a flash of guilt, or _anything_ other than the hurt and pity reflecting in those blue eyes. Those eyes that held promises of love and a life together. The same eyes that had both caressed her and ripped her apart without a change in temperament. There was nothing. Nothing but a slow rising anger.

" _Humanity?_ Really, Ruby? Coming from a werewolf?"

She realised her mistake as soon as the words had formed on her tongue, eyes widening as she watched them land harshly on the woman in front of her. She recoiled, tears welling in her eyes as she took the blow. I mean, the woman wasn't wrong. She was a werewolf. She was a monster. She wasn't entirely human, and maybe she had no right throwing around the word 'humanity' like she was entitled to fall under its moral closure. She did eat her boyfriend once. Who's to say she wouldn't do it again.

"Ruby, oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean- "

"Don't."

"No please, I know you're not like that, I know-"

" _Don't."_

 _"_ you _know_ I would never use that against you, I don't know why-"

Emma emerged from the backroom in a speed so determined, Belle flinched at the curtains' movement.

"You're done." Her glare was fixed, burning holes through the softening blue eyes.

"Emma, this has nothing to do with you."

"It has _everything_ to do with me, actually." If she hadn't already been angry at overhearing the previous conversation, she was sure she would have been livid at the woman's tone (she wasn't a very down-to-earth person anymore) "So before you go throwing around words you haven't even _considered_ the implications of, I suggest you have a good hard look at the person you've become."

Grabbing Ruby's shaking arm, and barely sparing a glance at the two figures just emerging from between the curtain, Emma dragged them out onto the street. Before the bell had finished ringing, they were in the car and on the way to the diner.

"You okay Rubes?"

The brunette hummed, and her best friend watched as she swallowed all of her emotions, stuffing them haphazardly into boxes in the back of her head. (They both had a habit of this, unhealthy as it was, but there was always a time and place).

When they arrived at the diner, after a morning that seemed far too long for the hour it had been, they were ready for their first shoot.

That night, Ruby emptied herself of emotion (and clothing) in Emma's bed, and the blonde swore she'd talk to Lily about this arrangement tomorrow.

Glancing towards her best friend she swore once more, to make sure Belle couldn't lay another scar on the woman's battered heart. As she was drifting off, she made another promise to herself, to not become infatuated once more with the woman she had left this town to avoid.

The last one seemed void, because Rumple had decided the women were the best pair to personally monitor the wall.

Every day.

For the next week.

(Not that she ever got over her)

What a week it was shaping up to be.


	10. The First of Many

**A/N: So, after a million years of no uploads (of which I will be forever sorry for) I have finally gotten back on track with this story and kind of re-fell in love with it. I even planned it all out, which is most DEFINITELY a feat (let me tell you) - hopefully this means many reasonably timed updates with lots of plot development yayyyyyyyyyyy**

 **I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it was one of my favourites to write :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 10 - The First of Many**

Lily sipped leisurely at her coffee, wincing at its heat as the blonde across from her drank deep from her hot cocoa. After abandoning Ruby in her bed, Emma had thought it best if she were to confront Lily with the nature of their… _relationship_. It wasn't all that surprising, she should have realised, that the woman would be more than understanding.

They always _had_ been of similar mindsets.

"I can't believe you're so cool with it."

"Why wouldn't I be?" the brunette snorted, ripping her toast in two, "we've always understood each other, Em."

"Yeah, but-"

"Emma, I'm happy with whatever we are to each other. Whether that's friends, friends with benefits, _Girlfriends,"_ she laughed loudly as the woman grimaced, "whatever. As long as we still talk like we always have, we'll be sweet."

"You're far too understanding." Emma spoke around a mouthful of bear claw, now satisfied that they had found a comfortable common ground. At sight of the woman's smug face, she added, "It was also disgustingly sentimental. I don't know whats happened to you. You used to be cool."

"oh, shut up." Lily threw her half eaten piece of toast across the table, the crust lodging delicately in blonde curls. As if issued a challenge, Emma reached across for the womans' abandoned piece of toast (she was in _no_ way foregoing her bear claw), but was stopped by a very stern "no" from the older woman behind the counter.

Laughing, though sufficiently berated, the women sunk back into their chairs and continued conversation. Since her long awaited meet with her mother, Lily had become _obsessed_ with informing the blonde of anything new she had discovered about her dragon. So far, what she had retained was as follows: her dragon was purple ("but not like bright purple, like a glittery black purple") and that Mary Margaret was _petrified_ of it. Just as Lily began explaining the difference between dragon activation and transformation, the sound of the bell signalled an end to their relaxing breakfast. The tell-tale clicking of louboutin heels on the Diner's heap linoleum floor triggered a primal reflex deep within Emma and, with everyone else, she sought Regina's eyes - her presence expectantly commanding the attention of the room.

And as always, Liiy had never been all too compliant with those who commanded anything.

"Emma, I need to speak with you."

Before, she had time to respond (or even react) Lily had taken control, "Hello! I'm Lily" she extended a pale hand, which was appraised warily by the other brunette before taking it into her own. The usual composure of the mayor faltered as she turned into brown eyes.

"Regina." the woman nodded, introducing herself before turning back to the blonde, "Emma we need to-"

"We were just enjoying a rather nice breakfast weren't we _babe._ " Lily turned expectantly to Emma, her eyes sparkling with their usual joking mirth. Regina's eyes flicked hastily between the two of them.

"I can see that. I'm very sorry to interrupt, but Emma if you could just talk to me outside for a moment I-"

"Why don't you join us?" The younger brunette smirked as she detected a shiver of irritation roll through Regina's body. Emma smiled across at her - a little thank you - before smiling up at the older woman.

"Its fine Lil, I'll message you later?" pushing out of the booth, Emma turned to follow Regina from the diner but was stopped by a hand on her arm, followed quickly by a surprisingly passionate public embrace.

Lily had her t-shirt gripped tight in her right fist, her left hand securing Emma's mouth to her own. She barely reciprocated, mouth gaping in surprise as the brunette put on her own show. Still shocked, Emma was released with a small pop, and regarded the woman with (what she hoped to be) a stern glare.

Regina, however, must of missed the look on the blonde's face and was instead staring at the third woman with narrowed eyes. Lily preened at the attention. She rolled her eyes again, "C'mon, we better get started."

As they reached the door, Regina huffed loudly at Lily's proud "Have a good day!"

* * *

"Your friend seemed… nice." Emma chuckled, disdain dripping from the woman's words. The forest stretched out ahead of them, blending into shades upon shades of greens. She stumbled on a surface root, catching herself on a low-lying branch and praying the brunette didn't notice. The older woman sniggered.

"She's just protective." she wandered closer to the cleared path, giving wide berth to a nasty patch of moss that was giving off a pungent egg odour.

The woman sniffed, "I'm not a danger."

"Maybe not physically." the blonde could have slapped herself for that comment, the cringeworthy delivery enough to send the tension between them skyrocketing, "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine, Emma. I understand."

They wandered in silence again, the path becoming thinner as the forest brush grew closer together. Light dimmed as the sun disappeared behind a cloud. The air grew colder and Emma pulled her leather jacket tight around her shoulders. Her breath began to cloud around her mouth. She wandered who exactly they may be looking for. How it had gotten there. As far as she'd been aware, the last portal had been opened two years ago when she'd brought Marian back from the enchanted forest. Could it have been summoned?

They had been walking for almost an hour now with no sign of ice or any impromptu architecture. The wall, which still stood towering over the forest surrounding the town, had been skilfully disguised by Rumple the evening prior to blend seamlessly with the sky. So much so, that she had overheard a mic guy compliment the weather that day. The silence of the walk was only interrupted by an occasional grunt as Regina's five-inch heels sunk into the ever-softening soil.

"I can't believe you wore heels into the forest."

Regina huffed, blowing her fringe from her face and reefing her left foot from a rather deep pool of mud, "Yeah, well, they are better than _'barely-used_ ' hiking boots."

Emma laughed out loud, "It was not my fault you decided to trust my mother."

"No, but it was _certainly_ your idea to climb the mountain. _I_ just had to live with my feet smelling like squirrel shit for three days following."

She laughed again, rather at the words than the memory itself, "It was actually Henry's idea to climb the mountain so you can blame _your_ son for that one."

The two laughed together and settled into a much more comfortable lull in conversation. It was a good memory, contrary to popular belief, and all three would have denied it if you had ever asked. It had been rather early in the trip - though not even close to being early enough to turn back - when Regina had realised that the boots Mary Margaret had supplied were far from _barely-used,_ and instead made a low squeaking sound with every step. Emma, supposedly being the most fit, began to struggle halfway through the climb which then inevitably led to snark from the boy's brunette Mother. Henry, on the other hand, became fed up very quickly with his mothers' bickering and sped up the mountain path, leaving the two women to pull themselves and each other to the top.

It was all worth it, though, to see the sun set on the harbour.

"You know, I didn't really take my mother for one to smuggle squirrel poop in her old hiking boots. Even if they _were_ from the enchanted forest."

"You and I both."

"Do you think she planned it?"

Regina took on a face of quick contemplation, "Yes. Yes I do."

The two laughed hard, and before long they found themselves out of breath. The wet squelch of the forest floor became quickly discouraging, and it wasn't soon before they decided to turn back - their cheeks still tight from smiling.

Neither could focus rather hard on the fact they hadn't gained any ground in regard to who created the wall, but instead on the ache of familiarity rooting itself within their chests. In silence, the women finally allowed themselves to feel the loss of their best friend.

* * *

Emma was drunk again.

She realised this only as she stood from the bar stool, the world taking a rather shakey plunge sideways before tentatively evening out. Taking this into consideration, she crossed the dingy bar floor to the booths, plopping herself down into one as Ruby re-emerged from the bathroom.

"I'm much drunker than I thought." she said as she sidled the table, throwing herself half on Emma as she sat.

"Tell me about it."

The brunette dropped her head to the blonde's shoulder, her fingers once more twirling intricately against her inked arm. Relaxing into the familiar touch, Emma let her arm fall to rest on the table before them, the inside of her wrist upwards. For a moment they just relaxed, allowing themselves time to fall into the drowsy atmosphere. The lousy tune emanating from the jukebox in the corner lulled both of them into a calm, and for a moment, they weren't stuck in the town, they were just _there._ Very drunk, and rather sleepy, but there nonetheless. In her pocket, her phone vibrated. Using her free hand, she withdrew it, both intrigued and dreading what could possibly be waiting on the other end. Wakening the screen, Emma froze. _Regina Mills - 1 unread message._

Angry at her own reaction, she forcefully opened the message. _Thank you for your help today , I really appreciated it. I'll see you again tomorrow :) - 10:46pm._ She stared blankly at the screen, her heart racing. Over her shoulder, Ruby squinted at the words, understanding washing over her as the blonde's shoulder's remained tensed. Her eyes moved to the woman's wrist, fingers dancing over the Queen's crown woven intricately into the bottom of the town's skyline. Somethings would never change - the leaves would always fall in autumn, Snow White would always cry in Bambi, and Ruby and Emma would always be caught up in loving women who weren't theirs to love.

Emma locked her phone, pushing it back into her pocket as she watched deft fingers dance around her wrist and into the artfully shaped skyline shadow. The Crown was a permanent reminder of the women she left behind, the one she would never want to forget. Ruby had called it the 'omen of love', which, while rather true, had sat uncomfortably in her stomach. She didn't want to be scared of love. She didn't want anyone to think that loving someone to your full potential was a quick route to pain. She needed it for herself, for when she finally found home again - to know that theres always some kind of hope arising from a dark time.

Ruby's wrapped her hand in Emma's, lifting the pale knuckles to her lips, "What do you say we get out of here?" with a simple nod, she was hoisted from the booth and the two women began their trek to her apartment.

All the while Emma couldn't stop wondering just _why_ it had taken Regina so long to message her. When they reached her apartment, and Ruby began to strip, the only thing on Emma's mind was that they weren't making it to the bedroom.

On the other side of town, Regina slammed her phone down and cursed. She almost wished Henry hadn't taught her how to use a god damn cell phone, because the little _Read 10:46pm_ hovering below her message was digging at her brain. Ever since that morning, she had felt… odd. It had taken her 5 hours, 2 glasses of wine and a finger of cider to construct that message. She had carefully made sure to remain neutral, to not seem condescending while at the same time, not be so _obviously_ careful.

Emma had acted almost like nothing had ever changed, that their friendship was still strong - that she hadn't broken her damn heart. But had she? because the woman seemed fine, if anything, better than before she left Storybrooke. Beside her, Robin rolled over, flinging his arm around her waste as she watched her phone lit dim.

"You a'right?" his voice was sleep-ridden and comforting, though her thoughts were still locked on the Blonde.

"Yes, I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

As she felt him drift off behind her, she decided she was going to be the best _God damned_ friend she could be. Because having even the small taste of her friendship with Emma back had left her starving for more.

And she was a stickler for having things go her way.


	11. Second Guessing or Second Chances

**Chapter 11 - Second Guessing or Second Chances**

She was nervous. Her heart racing, pounding aggressively in her chest, as she stared intently at her coffee. The black liquid no longer steaming, had gone cold in her own procrastination. Her palms, wrapped tightly around the mug, were slick with sweat. You'd think she was off to face a dragon, or stood stoically before the gallows awaiting an inevitable sentencing.

But she wasn't.

Instead, Regina was sat, twitching nervously, on a bar stool at Granny's working up the courage to cross the room and have a conversation.

With who, you may ask?

Emma's Girlfriend.

It had been three days of tentative conversation of comfortable topics and three-too-many pairs of ruined heels since their first day 'working' together, and Regina thought it was about time to rectify whatever grudge the still woman's partner was harvesting for her. Except, apparently it wasn't time, because she couldn't work up the god damn _courage_ to get out of her seat. The woman was sitting just by the window, right in her periphery, and she didn't look threatening in the least. In fact, she was quite sure she'd yawned at least 6 times in the last few minutes, and yet Regina sat all but trembling in fear feet away.

It was embarrassing.

It was this thought, along with a frustrated glance to her dwindling time that threw her to her feet and she found herself standing in front of the woman, still clutching her cold coffee, before she had even taken a full breath.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

Lily's brows shot straight into her hairline and her eyes woke with a hunger Regina knew well - a hunger for a fight, "go right ahead."

She sat slowly, placing her coffee on the table between them and crossing her legs beneath the chair. Lily's eyes hadn't left her face, and it took all Regina had not to let her face fall into the stoic mask of her regal past. It took the rest of her to keep smiling.

"I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

Lily scoffed, "I'm not going to disagree." she appraised the women, noticing the tension in her shoulders, and the harsh lines of her face. Before looking at her, Lily was more than ready to keep up her hard-to-please attitude, but looking now at the woman's frozen coffee, she couldn't bring herself to do it, "I could've sworn you were about to hit me a few days ago."

Regina smirked, "I was. And I think Emma suspected as much."

"Yeah, I think she did."

They fell into a comfortable silence, Regina's perfectly manicured nails tapping quietly against the ceramic of her mug. Both women were searching for the words that needed to be said, and just how to present them.

"I wanted-" Regina started, just as the other woman opened her mouth to speak, "Sorry," the women chuckled nervously, "you go first."

Lily ducked her head, smiling in thanks, "I just wanted to apologise for how blatantly rude I was the other day… I'm just a little protective of Emma and I hate seeing her hurt. You deserved better, so I'm sorry for the shitty first impression."

In that moment, Regina was reminded of how very alike this woman was to Emma, and found herself thankful (rather than spiteful) that they had found each other, even as a jealousy so raw burned at her stomach.

"Thank you. I was actually coming over here to apologise as well. And to let you know that you don't have to worry about me hurting Emma. I've made a promise to both her and myself, and now you, that I would never hurt her again. I also wanted you to be sure that you have nothing to worry about from me. All I want is for us to go back to being somewhat friends." She wrapped her left hand around the cup, ensuring the engagement ring was on full display and hiding her wince as it clinked against the ceramic.

Lily looked confused, until her gaze fell on the ring, and her mouth widened in realisation (and wonder because a ring like that would've cost a large fortune), "uh, its okay… It's not like-"

"No, I truly am sorry."

"Honestly - just wow, thats a really nice ring- but Emma and I aren't-" She was cut off by her own cell phone, a glance at the screen showing a stream of urgent messages from Ruby. She barely caught the gist of their reasoning before Regina was standing from her chair opposite her, "I better go. Thank you for listening to me."

She was out the door before Lily had even registered what exactly was happening, "Bye?"

Watching her walk out of Granny's gates (and wondering what the hell Ruby could be this riled up about at 8:30 in the morning) Lily found herself picturing the two women together, as they would have been before everything had happened. Emma had said they were inseparable, just like they had been themselves as kids, but worse. They had done everything together, and (though the older woman didn't know) this closeness had brought ruin to the blonde's relationship with the pirate. She caught herself becoming quickly invested in this renewed friendship, because even over just the last few days, she had seen a spark revived in the depths of Emma's eyes - she had noticed it mirrored in the brunettes this morning. There was something more than what it appeared on the surface, and maybe there was a chance Emma could find true happiness.

And maybe, Regina could too.

* * *

Locating people had never troubled Lily. Much like Emma, she had a knack for reading people - a talent that had never failed to surprise even her. Which is why decoding Ruby's coded messages, curtesy of her dramatic flare, was a piece of cake.

What was confusing was why it let her to the town's rather large graveyard.

And right in the middle, menacingly stood a pristine mausoleum.

She had never been a fan of graveyards. While the concept of death was something she had understood, she was never at peace with the dead. As a child, she religiously obeyed wives tales and conspiracies surrounding spirits. While driving past cemeteries she held her breath, she never attended open-casket funerals for fear of the corpse opening its eyes, she never wore pink to school.

Which is why, she reasoned, she let out a scream when her phone vibrated suddenly.

and why her eyes filled when Ruby's message directed her to a vault beneath the mausoleum.

With shaky limbs, she made her way inside and beneath the coffin, surprised to see both Ruby and Henry beneath, stood close and whispering. They broke apart suddenly upon noticing an entrance, relaxing only when realising it was her.

"You took your sweet time" Ruby exclaimed, noticing her drawn features, "are you okay?"

Lily smiled her best (hopefully comforting) smile, "I just don't like graveyards."

The other brunette grimaced, "Sorry."

Shrugging it off, Lily let her eyes roam the stone shelves of which were filled with trinkets and boxes seemingly from another time. On the far side of the room stood a large clothing trunk which Henry had sat himself upon. The decor itself reminded her of an ex boyfriend, who's obsession with the dark ages went much too far.

"Where are we?"

"My moms vault." Henry spoke, chuckling as her eyes widened, "It's ok. She doesn't come down here anymore anyway."

"Pfff. I don't believe it. She's gotta be here every other day to tend to the hearts she's-," silenced by a dark look from the boy beside her, Ruby cleared her throat, "Sorry Hen. Long story short is we've come up with a plan."

"A plan?" Lily questioned.

Ruby nodded, and Henry crossed his arms over his chest proudly before continuing, "We were thinking… Do you remember when you got here and Ma bought you and everyone to Granny's? and you spent all afternoon talking to everyone and it was the first time that my moms had seen each other since Emma left and it was the most awkward thing ever?"

Confused as to both where this was heading and why Henry already expected her to be on his level, Lily nodded slowly, though raised her eyebrow in question. It had been truly awkward, them seeing eachother. So awkward in fact that Lily had used the interaction as a conversation topic with Emma's mother, who had so gladly obliged and launched into a detailed history of the two woman (which, it turned out she already knew).

"We were thinking we need to regain some common ground." Ruby interrupted, watching as Lily's face contorted in anger, "I know, its not ideal since…" a quick glance at Henry, " _everything_ went down, but I can see how much they miss each other. I can't help but think that this is a good idea."

If she were being honest, even the thought of Emma opening herself up to Regina once more enraged her. The simple notion that the woman may hold a piece of the blonde again, and my crush it just like the last time lit a fire within her veins that tightened her fists and reddened her vision. The fact that her friend could be hurt to that extent once more hardened her breathing and pummelled her heart.

But then she remembered that morning.

She remembered the warmth in Regina's eyes as they spoke about Emma, the blatant flaunt of her engagement ring. The promise that she wasn't there to hurt her.

She remembered that Emma was so much stronger now than before, that there was no chance she would let the woman back into her life without complete certainty that it was without pain or loss.

She remembered that feeling of home in a loving friendship.

Looking into Ruby's eyes, she saw her own fears reflected back. With all of this knowledge it was still so hard to be okay with their best friend opening herself back up to the possibility of being hurt again. The woman stepped forward, pulling Lily's hands into her own, "Both you and I know this needs to happen. Emma deserves to make her own decisions, and this is just us letting her do that."

Sighing, Lily nodded.

"Yes!" Henry exclaimed, sliding quickly off the chest and easily pulling both women in to his chest, "I'm so glad this is happening. Let operation Gal Pals commence."

At the woman's shocked looks, he chuckled, "what? I know more than what you think I know. Come on guys, I'm sixteen not twelve."

* * *

After her extremely uncomfortable conversation with her girlfriend, Regina found she wasn't quite so nervous to meet up with Emma later that afternoon. In fact, she was glad to say, she was rather looking forward to their daily patrol. The blonde must have sensed this, and ( _thankfully_ ) made no action to change it. Which left them where they were now, the blonde skipping blissfully up the path beside her, the abandoned farmhouse looming eerily in the distance.

"So, what's bringing us here exactly?"

"I've decided to finally kill you."

Emma smiled over her shoulder, the kind of smile that wasn't supposed to make her heart skip the way it did, " _Finally._ I've only been waiting 6 years."

Regina laughed, and the blonde relished in the sound, happy to have an afternoon with the woman that wasn't filled with ice-breaker conversation and uncomfortable silences.

"Please. Don't act like I couldn't have done so at any point in our knowing each other."

The blonde smiled again - brighter, more presumptuous. She opened her mouth to retort, flashes of tan torso pinned beneath her, a collision of breath and interrupted moans in her mind, but caught herself in time, her face flushing momentarily.

"I'll give you that," she cleared her throat, "though Henry wouldn't have been happy with you."

"He would've eventually forgiven me. I can be rather charming, you know."

Emma flushed at the truth of the statement, ducking her head with another smile, "yeah, yeah. So why are we _really_ here?"

"It's the second to last place on the outskirts of town we haven't yet been." Having now reached the fence line, Regina crinkled her nose at the moulded smell of the wooden porch - well, what was left of it. The house was crumbling, much more worse for wear than when Robin and Regina first met inside it. The roof was mostly caved in, the front windows broken and porch filled with holes and warped wood. It was uninhabitable, to say the least.

"Something tells me our serial popsicle architect isn't here."

Placing her foot on the porch step, Regina pushed, the board snapping wetly beneath her, "I'll have to agree with you there." she sighed, "that just leaves the stables."

Emma looked over, catching the flash of pain cross the woman's face before it was expertly hidden. The subject of Daniel was always raw and always painful. It was a 'one-too-many-glasses-of-red subject. It sat beside Neal, and was filed closely with certain foster homes locked deep within both of their minds. A subject breached only when absolutely necessary. Taking a step toward Regina, a glint in the distance caught her eye. About 100 feet behind the house stood a giant wooden barn, one of its mammoth doors slightly open. Momentarily forgetting Regina, she squinted at the source of her distraction. Upon its eve hung a cluster of icicles, each brightly catching the dwindling sunlight.

"Wait. There's something back here."

The two woman made there way across the field, aware of the increasing chill in the air as they drew nearer. Stepping inside of the shed, they faced what felt like the inside of a freezer. Ice suffocated the walls, covering them with thick sheets of glass. From the roof and beams dangled monumental icicles, each covered with snowflakes, making them seem as if they were diamonds on a chandelier. The ground was covered in the softest powder, mesmerising as it caught the late afternoon sun. In the centre of the barn, the snow once again hardened, magic carving an intricate pattern in its centre.

A pattern all too familiar to Emma.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me." she laughed, disbelief contorting the sound.

"What?"

"Do you not recognise this?" she pointed to the design of the portal, her eyes wide and bright. Regina stared blankly back at her, "Does this snowflake not look familiar to you?"

The brunette remained blank faced, her eyes flicking between the form and the visibly excited woman beside her, "… No?"

"Gina!" Emma had grabbed her shoulders in excitement, the nickname tightening her chest - a feeling very much like Euphoria blooming quickly from her heart, a laugh bubbling up with it.

"I don't know?"

"Its from Frozen! you know, that Disney movie with the princess who has the ice powers? The one I joked about before? I freaking knew it!" At the words, both women cracked up, tears springing to the brunette's eyes easily, though whether from the laughter or relief she wasn't going to have to visit the stables she wasn't quite sure. The blonde's hands still rested comfortable against her forearms

"How does Disney even do that? I swear that movie was only released a few years ago."

"I'm more concerned with how you recognised that straight away, if I'm being honest." the brunette laughed.

"Hey! I'll have you know I do my research, thank you very much." laughing, they caught each others eyes, emerald bore into chocolate. As if falling into an old habit, they stilled - caught entirely in one another. The brunette's forearms tingled where they remained touching. The blonde's eyes twinkled, enthralled in the other woman's aroma - her atmosphere. The older woman's gaze flicked to pale lips, and without thinking - as if conditioned to do so - Emma leans forward.

Suddenly, the contact is gone. Regina clears her throat and ignores the freezing air as it attacks the diminishing warmth her hands left on her arms, "We better get going then. We do have a princess with a penchant for running away to catch, after all."

Emma laughs, but the sound is off, "See? It was a good movie."


	12. Cat and Mouse

**A/N: This chapter pretty much establishes why I love Marian's character so god damn much and why she has her own little special place in my heart.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12 - Cat and Mouse**

Emma Swan was always good at running.

This was well known and widely referenced. Along with this, on a small but well supported list of skills; she was also extremely good at finding people. A little known fact, however, was that as a result of these, she was also an expert at hiding. Which is exactly what she was doing right now - though she was finding it extremely hard as a celebrity shooting a film in a town as small as Storybrooke.

She was just starting to feel things settle. She was almost finished filming, and there had been little problems thus far. Her concert was prepared for the following week, and her final intimate scene was set for film within the next few days. Her crew _loved_ Storybrooke and Lily had established a healthy relationship with her mother. She even found herself slipping right back into her old habits with Regina.

Which was the problem.

The day at the barn was good. She had forgotten just how she felt being able to bring _that_ smile to brunette's lips, to be capable of provoking a laugh from so deep within the woman that she felt it reverberate through her body and rattle all of her bones. And it was so _easy_ to bask in that glow, to fall into her coffee eyes. It was so _god damn effortless_ to forget that they weren't a partnership, that they were no longer an infamous duo.

All it did was bring back the pain of losing her all over. Of missing not only a lover, or a best friend, but a soulmate - on whatever level she was willing to agree to.

So, she decided, she was going to hide. The daily patrols were no longer needed, on account of the fact Rumple was well able to track the magic signature of the portal to the docks where he found (and promptly extradited) a very lost, confused, and frankly horrified Elsa, so that meant she didn't need to cancel any plans.

Next, Emma ruled to avoid the woman's common haunts. Since this was a rather inclusive program of Granny's and Mifflin Street, this was not hard to do.

But as stubborn as Regina is, Emma was well aware that soon enough, the woman would come looking for her. And when she did, Emma wasn't sure how she was going to handle it. Unfortunately, the other woman was also rather good at finding people, which meant that she was going to have to become really good at being unpredictable, and she was going to have to do it fast. This, however, was not on the cards when she instinctually agreed to a night at the Rabbit Hole with Ruby, Lily and Mary _fucking_ Margaret.

Who had unceremoniously invited Belle (because gee that sounds like a party.)

They sat in their booth in the back corner, just far enough from the jukebox that conversation was possible. _Possible_ being the operative word, since everyone was currently sat in silence. Across from her, Belle sat fuming - nose scrunched and eyes glued to Ruby who (to Emma's extreme amusement) had a very drunk Lily strewn across her lap. This was of no big surprise to her, considering their shared sexual appetites, but seemed to have a great effect on her mother, who had her crimsoned face turned down into her drink. It wasn't until Belle had rather quickly stood and stormed from the bar, her eyebrows still drawn together and her arms rods at her sides, that the group became considerably less tense.

Emma burst out laughing, "No but seriously guys" she wheezed between breaths, "did you see the look on her face?" A collective laugh rose from the women, the comment even earning a smirk from Mary, whose blush had just begun subsiding.

Sliding off Ruby, Lily's smile was radiant, "God, she's such a petulant child. I swear she was going to drop to the floor and start thrashing around any second."

Mary sighed, "God, I'm so sorry for inviting her. I completely forgot that you two had a thing."

Ruby rolled her eyes, because if it was one thing Mary was talented at, it was conveniently 'forgetting' that her best friend was bisexual. It was a conversation topic they had on multiple occasions, especially after Regina told her that sexuality was considered very fluid in the enchanted forest, and gay relationships were common and widely accepted. Where her mother faulted, however, was the grey area. In her doe-like eyes, there was only good and evil, a relationship or no relationship, a man or a woman, and gay or straight. Anything between these 'mutually exclusive' topics were simply invisible, and she straight up refused to believe that Ruby was a lesbian.

Lily noticed this and moved her hand from where it sat on the woman's thigh, opting instead to throw her leg over it, flashing a toothy grin Mary's way. Her boldness made Emma smile, which she promptly hid behind her beer glass.

Quickly draining her beer, she rose and made her way to the bar. Behind her, she heard her mom begin conversation of the newest town hookups and couldn't help but feel slightly thankful she wasn't going to be expected to input anything of value. Placing her order, she looked back to the table, watching as Ruby gaped at some piece of information the pixie-cut brunette was more than likely exaggerating. Beside her, her childhood friend sat, eyes locked on the woman's face. Eyebrows raising, Emma watched an odd emotion play behind her eyes. _This_ was a development she could be interested in. Happiness bloomed in her stomach as she watched them interact, a small but undeniably feeling of home - the same one she used to have once she had settled in Storybrooke taking residence in her chest.

Grabbing her beer from the drenched bar top, she made her way back to the table surprised to find an odd change of mood. Ruby's eyes were flickering around her, not once calming to settle on her body.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah it's fine" the woman flashed a fake smile and looked to Mary to continue the conversation. Mary, oblivious to the change in mood, resumed cheerily. Lily, much like Emma, could sense a slight change in the other woman's demeanour but nodded anyway - wordlessly telling her the previous conversation was not the cause for the slight development. As her mom launched into the latest news of debauchery in town, she noticed Lily's eyes flicker behind her, widen, flick to her and then immediately back to Mary-Margaret - her disposition mirroring the woman beside hers.

Frowning, Emma looked over her shoulder, searching the bar for whatever had soured the two woman's moods. By the door, unmistakably searching the patrons, was Regina. Her eyebrows were drawn in curiosity, her gaze just grazing those over the bar and making its way towards their table. Immediately, her heart skipped - though she wasn't particularly sure why. Choosing to peg it on inevitability and her plan to avoid the woman thwarted, she turned back to the table.

Her two best friends watched silently, no longer actively listening to her mother's ramblings, as she drained her drink and stood from the seat, "Hey, sorry guys. I better go. I have to meet with Marian tomorrow morning pretty early, so I'm gonna call it a night."

Not bothered by her mothers concerned response - and knowing full well that Ruby and/or Lily would cover for her - she made her way to the door.

She was well aware confrontation was unavoidable, yet she made the extreme effort to evade her eyes from the woman's body. Sheepishly, she pulled her jacket further down her wrists, ensuring the skyline and crown were well covered. About three feet from the door, Regina's eyes pulled hers like a magnet and she stumbled - stopping at the hopeful gleam in chocolate orbs.

"Emma. I haven't seen you in days. I've been looking for you" She smiles brilliantly, and her heart beats a mile a minute. She hates it.

"Oh, sorry." its awkward, and nothing like how she behaved at the barn, "I was just leaving, actually."

She moves to leave, barely passing the other woman before she feels a hand on her arm, "Emma wait," she turns, barely, just enough to catch the look of earnest on her face, "are you okay?"

The tone breaks her stoic. She might has well give up right here, because it sent her to times before she was an artist - when the two could read each other as easy as breathing. It threw her into memories of long nights on the same cider-soaked couch when they talked about everything, about homes, about foster parents. When the hours ticked by and the conversations grew darker, just before it got a little too heavy, Regina would lean closer - her warmth engulfing her; _'are you okay?'_

Too suddenly, she pulled her arm from the woman's grip, "I'm fine. Just… tired, I guess. I'll see you around."

Neither of them saw the look of heartbreak on the other's face as Emma left the bar behind her.

* * *

Marian loved sleep. Though she missed the opportunity to raise her child, thanks to the very same reason she lost her 'supposed' soulmate, she still struggled to sleep in the dark dungeon of the evil queen. Most nights she was unable to sleep at all thanks to some screams of torture or the disgusting, permanent smell of mildew. Either way, sleep was a main priority in her eyes.

Except when its interrupted by Emma Swan.

There was a solid connection between them, one that - while not openly spoken about or elaborated upon - was the strongest relationship either had ever had. They were one each others confidants, a judgement free companion fully equipped with a sentimental shoulder to cry on, and at least three bottles of wine. It was the only thing that got them through the first few weeks in New York, and now it was a constant comfort. One that, at this moment in time, was in great need.

While slightly disheveled, Emma didn't look too worse for wear which meant that whatever was tormenting her mind hadn't driven her to get drunk, or start a fight. Usually, this would rule Regina and any thoughts regarding her out - unfortunately, she felt as if this wasn't the case. After bringing the woman to her couch and procuring two glasses of wine, Emma had settled slightly, though she sat in silence. Marian waited patiently, well aware that when the time came, she would open up.

This happened just after she polished off her third glass, her jacket strewn beside her on the stained love seat, her cheeks visibly flushed from the wine.

Groaning, and throwing an exhausted arm over her eyes, she began, "I have no idea what I'm feeling, Mari. I'm just… UGH."

Laughing into her second glass, Marian watched as Emma rolled off the couch and reached to open their second bottle, "Words, Em."

"I came back here _so_ ready to be nothing to Regina. To just be civil and not start shit and here I am falling right back to where I fucking started." she looked to see Marians eyebrows raised, her face slack - she reevaluated her words, "Not love! not… just with how comfortable I am around her, you know? Like nothing bad ever happened and I'm just going to head back into the sheriff's office and never fucking leave."

she took a deep mouthful from her glass, "You know that won't happen. I would never allow it."

she smiled, "I know. But I'm just so… _caught_. While I know that just allowing this 'friendship' to continue to develop would make everything so much easier, its just so scary. I freaked out."

Her eyes were slightly frantic, caught somewhere at a loss - between confused and conflicted "What happened?" she asked quietly, eyebrows pulled tight with worry.

"The other day, when we found that portal, I was so ready for just another few hours of ice-breaker conversations and awkward silences and she just completely disarmed me. I could tell she was in such a good mood, she just radiated it and she smiled at me and I just threw away all of that fucking chainmail I hid myself away in. Just like fucking that." She laughed bitterly, downing the remaining half glass she had cradled between her legs. This was nothing like those first few weeks, the ones that knitted them so tightly together. She was so much more aware, so much more cautious of what she may very well be heading towards. And at the same time, Marian was so very aware that she was so guarded, so well protected, that she wouldn't let the same thing happen to her again. It would be impossible, "God, It just made me feel so content. Like everything that happened is said and forgiven and we could just peacefully coexist."

"Then do it." Emma tilted her head, confused, "Coexist."

She rolled her eyes, "Have you met us?" she poured another glass, half the bottle gone, "we're about as peaceful as a fucking hurricane."

They laughed, Marian draining her glass and taking the bottle from the blonde.

"I just felt so relaxed. I'm happy when she's happy, it's _always_ been that way. Even when she got engaged to her fucking leaf-boy I was so ecstatic, just because she deserves every single chance at love. She deserves to be happy, and she's always had that right taken away from her. And I _know_ that me moving on from this, and just letting us fall into whatever we will fall into will do that, it will make her happy. I know it. But I'm so _scared._ I'm so scared that I'll fall even further back and be that person head over heels for someone that's completely unavailable to me."

"Is that really so bad?"

Startled, the blonde turned to her, eyes calm but a fire blazing behind them, "… I'm sorry?"

She rolled her eyes, "What I'm saying is; just let it go. If that happens, and yeah there's a huge chance that it will, you _will_ be able to cope with it. You will _not_ turn into the person you were before." The woman before her visibly calmed, her face down, but she was listening - they always listened, "You are _infinitely_ more stronger than that person. You are a city on ashes, reinforced with so much god damn strength that it shakes me to my freaking core."

Emma looked up, eyes lined with tears, though Marian knew well that none would fall. Even in this moment, she saw the strength in her. She could see not only the muscles beneath her skin more solid, but the heart pumping blood around her body. She laughed, purposely breaking the somewhat impassioned atmosphere of the conversation, "Are you crying, you nerd?"

Emma wiped at her eyes, smiling "Shut the fuck up. You didn't even know what nerd meant a year and a half ago."

"Yeah, but now I do. Nerd."

"We're both thirty years old, we should probably find an insult to use that isn't commonly used by twelve year olds."

Silence swept the room as they finished their drinks, the wine slightly playing at the edges of her vision. Emma sat with her face drawn, analysing the situation at hand. She needed to make a decision that may well be the worst of her life. She knew it couldn't be. Not with the way the women complement each other. And as much as Marian despised the woman for what she had done to her, to Emma, she knew that without her in her life, Emma had a piece missing. It was well hidden, and usually booze-filled, but it was there.

The blonde startled her out of her revere, "I just don't know what to do."

Marian sighed, thinking over just what to say. Emma's forest eyes bore into her, waiting for an answer, or advice, or _something_ to sway her opinion. "You know full well I cant tell you what to do here. I hate my ex-husbands guts. I'd tell you to go for it and fuck up his life just as bad as he fucked up mine, So I'm not going input anything here, the decision is completely on you. But I will say; that feeling? that happiness? that's okay, Em. It's okay to want that."

Emma nodded, her eyes falling on the mantle clock above the fireplace, "Oh shit, it's 2am. I better get going." She stood, making a move for her discarded jacket.

"Don't be stupid, you can stay here tonight." she looked around the hotel room, both of them well aware Granny's rooms were spaced on the small side. "… in my bed with me, since theres no way I'm making you sleep on this lumpy ass sofa."

"Where's Roland?"

"With Robin. He asked for some time with him the day we got here. We agreed he could spend the week with him, but I'm so scared he's going to come back in a mental state as far back in evolution as his fathers."

Emma chuckled, undeniably more upbeat than earlier in the evening, "No, not my Rollie. He might just be a little slower on the uptake." Marian slapped her lightly, though was laughing rather heartily, "and it's okay, I'll go back. I don't want to put you out."

"Oh my God Emma, it's not like we haven't shared a bed before. We slept together for months because Roland demanded he slept with Ruby after he found out she was a werewolf, if you remember correctly. Besides we have to be at Granny's for Neal's birthday brunch tomorrow anyway."

Her face slacked, her mouth forming a perfect 'O', "Fuck. I forgot about that." she was silent for a moment, her bottom lip suffering between her teeth. Marian could see the pain in her eyes, the love she had for her little brother conflicting always with her lack of parents. Resting her hands on her hips, she squinted sideways at her "Does that make me a bad sister?"

She smiled, hooking Emma's glass in her pinky and standing, "Yeah. But I would be too if my dumb-ass parents named my sibling after my creepy, dead ex-boyfriend."


	13. A means, but to what end?

A/N: Sorry for the extremely long break in writing, I was very busy failing my statistics course, but i've recently been re-inspired, so I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :)

* * *

 **Chapter 13 - A means, but to what end?**

The morning came far too quickly for Emma's liking. Marian snoozed quietly beside her as the sun, hours since risen, filtered in through the window. Just outside, she watched the clock on its tower, watched as the second hand ticked over to 9am. She hadn't slept much, indecision stirring her whenever she began to drift.

Marian had a point - she was much stronger now. She could feel it, almost a barrier that stopped her falling that bit too far. Even when those mesmerising eyes stared through her, and she feels it to her core, she does fall. But the temptation to fall is always there, to take that small moment of pure bliss and just let it linger, to drop all past grievances and just live in that instant. Could she risk it? just to sit in the stinking shadows of fucking _Robin Hood?_

Fuck no.

Beside her, Marian grumbled, "Ugh. Emma. Stop thinking so loud, its too early."

She sniggered, "Actually, Mari," she flipped herself away from the window, throwing a leg over the blanketed lump and straddling the woman, "It's almost time to go."

Flexing her thighs, she began to bounce - the woman grouching beneath her.

"Fuck off, Emma."

"Woah, those are some hateful words for one of your best friends. Especially when she's just trying to make sure you aren't late to the party she forgot about."

Slowly, the covers were pulled, revealing a very tired and ruffled woman - pulling a laugh from Emma's chest.

"Shut up." She pushed Emma off her waist, grunting as she stretched out her limbs, "And go shower you smell like trash. We leave in twenty."

* * *

The diner was filled far before the the birthday child had arrived. Aluminium covered casserole dishes shimmered in the lighting, covering spaces that were not filled with clear wrapped desert dishes on the booth tables. Differing jugs of liquid lined the countertop, a ring of recyclable paper cups sat beside each. Along the far wall, the tables that once littered their current standing area were pulled together, creating a perfect place for the forty-eight inch birthday cake. Upon it, intricately iced above an edible photo of the family (Minus a tall blonde) were the words "Happy Birthday Neal".

It made her want to gag.

Uninterested in associate with any of the towns people mingling before her, Regina stood against the booth of the first table, the conflicting odour wafting from the dishes on the surface slowly making her more and more nauseous. Her eyes roamed the crowd, searching for a glimmer of blond curls, or a flash of red leather. She needed desperately to talk to her - to bridge whatever gap that had ripped a hole right through their slowly re-blossoming friendship. And then rip another one, because she just now realised, she was furious.

The last week had been so easy. Without the worry of the ice-wall dilemma, her days had fallen back into a somewhat normal routine - a feat considering Emma Swan was in town. This had become much less of a problem after the day they discovered the portal. After parting ways with the woman, Regina had spent the entire afternoon in one of the best moods she had ever been in. This wasn't unnoticed by her fiancé or her son, who both regarded her with astonished expressions for most of the evening.

The excitement of getting her best friend back was mesmerising, and she found herself unable to concentrate on much else. The wedding was completely forgotten - not that it was ever really at the forefront of her mind. It was too conflicting, the way her brain tossed the idea of every remarrying between happiness and dread. She needed someone to talk to, and she needed the only person who could ever understand. But she didn't have her. Not yet. But there was hope.

This hope, looming warmly on the horizon, left her so light and so carefree. She became one of those people she despised, idiotically smiling without reason, laughing loudly reliving memories in her mind. She found herself planning dinners and lunches and coffee, all too see emerald eyes glaze with bliss and pink lips stretch open in happiness

That was up until a few days ago.

She didn't catch on to the ignored text messages, chalking the unresponsiveness up to the woman's busy filming schedule. Not until she never messaged back. Understanding, however, Regina had messaged her once again - to no avail. It wasn't until the sixth unanswered text that her mindset began to change. Concerned, Regina made it her duty to find Emma in town. When this showed impossible, she knew Emma was avoiding her.

Thinking back on the afternoon at the farmhouse, she couldn't understand why. They were perfectly in sync, mirroring each others mood and responses like it was practiced. They joked and they laughed and not one moment were either of them left feeling uncomfortable, or harbouring a secret. And yes, Regina felt that jolt in her stomach, the one that was always there, when the woman flicked her hair over her shoulder. She felt, once again, the heat rush from her chest to her extremities when she smiled, playfully tucking her tongue between her teeth.

And then there was that moment.

Realisation of the almost kiss, and of just why the woman had been avoiding her, is what drove her to the Rabbit Hole that night. She had an inkling of the woman's whereabouts after overhearing a conversation between Ruby and Snow (not that the latter made eavesdropping very hard). It was with apologies and pleas for forgiveness on her lips that she entered the bar, and her nonchalant, blasé reception from the blonde left her speechless.

Which rather quickly made her mad.

This is how she stood now, a new fervour in her gaze as she searched the people. She felt her eyebrows knit in anger and took a breath to calm herself, her heeled foot tapping as compromise. The door swung open and her heart flipped - the bell a signal for the start of a fight, and was she ready. She stepped forward, pulling the door hard to her chest, only to come face to face with the birthday boy - his cheeks puffed and red from crying. Holding him, his mother looked frantic, her eyes overtired and tear-filled. Behind her, David hunched his body riddled with bags and presents, his eyes a mirror of his wife's.

Neal stretched his arms out, begging for Regina to take him. Without even glancing her way, Mary all but threw the child into her arms and walked inside, their almost twenty minute late arrival met with cheers. She settled the boy against her side, kissing him sweetly on the temple as the crowd startled him. She got a great kick out of the boy's obsession with her. Though she knew it was greatly due to the fact that he loved his sister to death, and around the time he was born, the two women were never far apart. This association had meant that when Emma moved away, he clung to Regina. Of course, she would never tell Snow that… she got far too much pleasure watching the woman squirm when she played with him.

She returned to her post, shifting aside a tray of what smelled like chicken breast to sit in the crowded booth. Neal snuggled into her chest, tucking his thumb into his mouth and observing the people crowding the restaurant. He swung his legs back and forth as he calmed, eventually pushing himself up so he could see Regina's face.

"Its my birthday.' He declared proudly, his eyes as piercing emerald as his sisters.

"Really?" she asked, tilting her face down so they were eye to eye, "And how old are you today?"

"Three!" his toothy smile was contagious, and she hugged him closer to her chest - all previous thoughts abandoned.

"Wow. You're pretty old then aren't you?"

The boy beamed, shifting off her knees, "Yeah. Not as old as you though." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and settled for throwing a glare towards the pixie-cut woman in the centre of the room no doubt responsible for that barb. Mary stood apologising to her 'mother friends', a group of people she never was (nor wanted to be) a part of - their children running rampant throughout the legs of those milling around them, "Alexandria!"

Neal took off, disappearing into the crowd as fast as his legs would allow after his friends leaving Regina to fall straight back into her pit of thought. While it wasn't unlike Emma to be late to anything, when it involved her little brother she was often over-involved. As much as the woman loved to deny it, she was enamoured with her little twin - loved him almost as much as Henry. When they were together, they were absolutely inseparable. But Regina knew the weight he carried on her, they way she felt as if he was her own replacement. She could see the way Emma used to push that thought out of her mind to see him, even when it may of taken her hours just to convince herself to go.

It was a love she both admired and envied.

And yet, she could not see a trace of the blonde anywhere.

Eventually Granny reemerged from the kitchen and began to collect dishes, tutting at the careless way they sat perched on the tables. As more sitting space was freed up, the crowd thinned leaving only the children in the centre, playing an extremely loud game of pass the parcel. By the speaker in the kitchens corner, Ruby stood, her fingered poised delicately over the pause button ensuring all children received at least one prize.

Lunch was over quickly and the children's excitement slowly began a turn for irritable. Mary hurried to pile two wooden pallets beside the cake, the children, preoccupied by her haste, watched on curiously. Intrigued, Regina watched as she carted over a bar stool and placed it on the surprisingly stable makeshift platform. Catching onto the inevitable hour long speech about love and family than Mary was sure to deliver, she turned to face the counter. She gestured towards Granny, the all knowing look in the older woman's eye only confirming just what was about to go down.

The pallets behind her creak just as Granny places a mug of black coffee before her. Smiling in thanks, she lifts the mug to her mouth.

"So I heard it could be someone's birthday in here today, and I thought I better come along and sing for them."

Snapping her head around at the voice, she barely winced as the hot liquid splashed from the mug onto her hand. On the stage stood the woman she had spent all morning looking for. Her hair fell in perfect curls around her face, the ends of it brushing the guitar strap resting on her shoulder. The guitar itself was a masterpiece, a hand painted recreation of Sandro Botticelli's 'The Birth of Venus' adorning its' body, the bridge blending seamlessly with the tree. The sight took her breath away.

The woman was smiling bright, her eyes focused only on the birthday boy who sat captivated by his older sister. As she began to play, her fingers picking the strings perfectly in time with the familiar tune, his smile stretched impossibly wider.

"I think everyone knows the words. are you ready?"

A collective affirmation rose from the children, each of them as excited to start singing as the next. Emma led them, singing slowly as to not let any child fall behind. In that moment, Regina was sure every adult in the room's heart was full, the sound so beautiful and pure it almost brought tears to her eyes. On stage, the blonde looked as if she felt the same, turning a thankful eye to Ruby as the woman joined in to close the song. Cheers erupted from the crowd and Neal stood up to blow out candles she hadn't noticed being lit.

Emma nodded thankfully at the crowd, eyes scanning the room calmly until freezing on Regina. They locked eyes, and for a moment Regina felt the world fall away - she felt the intensity of the other woman as if they were stood beside one another. She could smell her, the cinnamon scent of her skin. She could feel that emotion, the anger, the woman had held towards her, the grieving of their past and the hope for the future. She smiles, not unlike a way she would when they were each others best friends. The younger woman looked away, breaking the connection and directing everyone towards the cake.

Regina jumped from her seat as adults and children alike flooded her path to the blonde, all excited over the mention of dessert. Unforgivingly, she pushed through, desperate to reach the woman before she once again disappeared. Reaching the makeshift stage, she rounded the corner into the hallway - heaving a sigh of relief upon seeing Emma's retreating form.

"Emma," The woman continued her pace, whether ignored or unheard Regina wasn't certain, "Please stop."

The blonde froze, her left hand wrapped tightly around the guitars neck. She breathed deeply, turning slowly towards her, "What's up, Regina?"

For a moment, Regina tried to calm herself. She tried to approach the topic the way she planned, without expectations or anger - in a neutral tone without connotations. But the offhand look she gave her now pushed her over the edge.

"What's up? What's _up?_ " Emma looked down, obviously accepting that she couldn't brush this conversation off. "What is up, Emma, is that you have not only _ignored_ any attempts I have made at contacting you for days, but you have also gone to great lengths to _avoid_ me for all that time as well." the woman opened her mouth to argue, but Regina cut her off, "Don't think I don't know, Miss Swan. I am well aware of the intention it takes to avoid someone in this town. I _made_ it, for gods sake."

Emma remained silent, digesting the woman words. Her eyes remained to the ground, though even there Regina could see the cogs turning in her mind, could feel the blonde searching for excuses or words to end this conversation. She sighed, drawing the blonde's attention as she slumped against the wall. The woman looked at her, a question in her eyes. Though still, she made no move to speak, choosing instead to settle on the opposite wall, placing her guitar beside her to rest.

"Listen," She continued, her voice decidedly softer dropping her eyes but feeling forest-green orbs on her, "I don't expect anything from you, Emma. I don't expect you to forgive me for what's happened in the past, or move on as if nothing ever happened. I would never expect that, have a look at me. I'm not exactly a pinnacle of forgiveness myself."

Emma laughed, and they locked eyes once more - electricity buzzing between their gazes. Regina smiled, it was sombre and nervous, but it was reflected nevertheless.

"What I'm asking is for forgiveness." Emma sighed, quiet and heavy, "I know its a lot to ask for, and I know I'm really in no position to be asking for it, but what I also know is that I miss you. I miss you so much everyday that it hurts. I miss having you there to talk to when I need it, and I miss having you there to make me laugh. I didn't realise just how much until the day at the farmhouse. And I know this sounds unbelievably selfish, but I also know that you miss me too."

Regina's stomach was in knots as she watched the woman adjust her stance, breaking their eye contact to play with the head of her guitar. She knew this was acceptance oft he truth, a telltale sign the blonde had been exposed - but she refused to let herself hope, blocked the feelings that she might just be happy again.

"Because if you do, they way that I do, then I think its about time we got our family back." she nodded curtly, pushing herself off the wall and towards the hallway's entry. She walked slowly, silently begging the blonde for a response - hoping for acknowledgment of any kind. At the entry, she held her breath - preparing to turn at any sign of a sound, a whimper, a cough. Met with silence, she made her leave.

Numb with heartbreak, Regina moved calmly through the crowd. Their conversations nothing but a muddled static in her ears. The door's bell was quiet as she pushed through it, tears springing to her eyes the moment she knew she was alone - that no one could see her break. Her cheek stung in the cold breeze, the tear track frozen before she could wipe it away. As she reached the entry gate, the door opened behind her, and she swiped hastily at the tears gathering in her lower lash line - though she continued down the path towards her home.

"Regina!"

Shocked, she turned to watch the blonde run down the stairs towards her, the guitar once held in her hand now abandoned. The woman stopped a few feet from where she stood, emerald eyes scanning her tear-tracked face with an indescribable look, "I, uh." she grabbed roughly at the skin on the back of her neck, "I'm filming tomorrow, at my mom's house, it's for the last personal scene of the film."

Regina nodded, not trusting her voice to not crack if she spoke.

Emma tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, she was nervous, "It's nothing overly interesting, you'll probably be stuck with my crew most of the day, but we're celebrating after with dinner and drinks. I was wondering if, uh." she cleared her throat, speaking this time with more confidence, "I was wondering if you'd like to come?"

She nodded again, far too scared of bursting into tears to say a single word. Emma's smile was bright, cheeky in a way that reminded her of the scent of bear claws in the sheriff's station and a root beer office lunch.

"Awesome. I'll pick you up around ten tomorrow, yeah?"

Once Emma returned inside, Regina let the tears flow freely down her cheeks, relishing in the way they curved around her smile and fell to her chest where a hope bloomed so ferociously she was warmed from the inside out.


	14. Mistaken Opportunities

**Chapter 14: Opportunistic Mistakes or Mistaken Opportunities**

Mary-Margaret's apartment was abuzz with activity. The kitchen island was smothered in containers, every inch of space crowded with bottles of corrective foundations and setting powders. Behind it, Ruby sat still as Karli brushed a light highlight onto her cheekbone - huffing under the dingy fluorescent lighting. The crew swarmed in the back of the room, those not struggling to arrange the lights flatteringly on the tired cane lounge tackled the mammoth task of making room for the cameras amongst the toys strewn over the floorboards.

Emma sat with her brother at the table, anxiously watching the old clock tick closer and closer to ten. Over by the stairs, Marian was explaining the situation to her parents - Since it was far from logical to portray a couple of the same age as herself as her mom and dad, they had agreed to label them a close friend. Of course this meant that Emma would once again be labelled an orphan, and although this was not a new or forgotten feeling for her, it wasn't well known amongst the world.

Neal was just about as excited for Regina's arrival on set as she was nervous. He babbled enthusiastically beside her, his legs kicking back and forth as he smashed two of his toy trucks together.

"Em, are you getting Gina now?" and although her stomach flipped, she smirked at the nickname - remembering the day Regina first realised she was responsible for it.

The clock read 9:45.

"Yeah, bud." She pushed herself from the chair, ruffling Neal's hair. From across the room, Marian met eyes with her, a mixture of worry and anticipation mixing in her gaze.

With a fake reassuring smile, Emma slipped through the apartment door, thankfully unnoticed by her parents. Not telling them about Regina's presence at the shoot was for the best. Her mother was incapable of being casually interested in unfortunately included her relationship with Regina, supportive or not.

Emma didn't blame her for her interest. To anyone other than Ruby, Marian, Henry, and the women themselves, their fallout was sudden, and confusing. Best friends who never spent more than a few hours apart, to two people unable to maintain eye contact or be seated in the same room, was a change unexplainable. Still, she pulled herself into the SUV, choosing its comfort over the piercing wind.

The drive to the woman's house was purely instinctual. She opted for scanning the scenery, little things like blades of grass and cracks in the sidewalk to keep from being completely aware of just how close she was to her destination. All too suddenly, she pulled the car over - the knot in her stomach twisting tighter and tighter. Regina's house was unchanged, the pristine manor looming over the wrought-iron fence. She had avoided this part of town for a reason, and it stood now casting a shadow over her car - bigger than the house that held them. Emma watched the door, knowing inside was a hailstorm of reminders, of feelings and guarded memories and stories far too intricate for three o'clock in the morning. This was what threatened her now, what darkened in her vision as her eyes remained locked on the white-wooded door. Her heartbeat flooded her ears, the radio falling silent behind the pulse. Her view narrowed until her vision locked onto the handle, her body vibrating as she waited for it to twist, for Regina to rip the door open and let free the menacing flood hovering inside. Her breath caught…

She looked away, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel and choosing instead to focus on the dashboard's clock.

10:00am.

Shaking off her paranoia, Emma wiped her sweating palms on her jeans and turned the key in the ignition. She pulled into the woman's drive way, cautiously avoiding the entry way with her gaze. Parking, she turned the heat on - knowing Regina would be cold in whatever she was wearing. She said it was better to be cold than to 'ferment in a coat of sweat' all day. Emma had laughed it off at the time, but always made sure to have the heat on when they were together.

The door beside her swung open, startling Emma who still hadn't looked towards the house. Regina laughed, catching her frightened eyes before she had time to calm, "Right on time, I see."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm starting strong. You watch, I'll be the poster child for punctuality in no time."

"I'm sure." The brunette slid into the car, extending a blue rimmed travel mug, "I didn't know what exactly you drink now, so I just made you this instead."

A steady ribbon of steam rose from open top, filling Emma's lungs with a sweetness she hadn't smelled in what felt like a lifetime. the scent of cinnamon coffee flooded the car, calming all of Emma's nerves and relaxing the coil within her chest. She looked to Regina who stared intently at her own thermos (red-rimmed, as always), likely just as scared of whatever the day had to bring, of how Emma would react.

She smiled to herself, taking a deep drink from her old thermos, "My god, Regina, you're a fucking goddess."

She smiled at the compliment, relishing in the way the Emma's eyes rolled back into her head at the taste. Regina hugged her thermos tight to her chest, allowing the scent to scrape her cheeks and flood her nose. The blonde took another sip, moaning as the liquid slid down her throat. She watched, mesmerised by the contraction of her throat with each sip, the flutter of her eyelids at the taste. Her thighs clenched.

"I think we have somewhere to be, Emma?" she cleared her throat, looking once again at her thermos.

"Don't sound so excited" she spoke, placing her coffee between her thighs and reversing from the driveway, "We get to spend the day with my parents."

* * *

Emma's ass ached.

The cane lounge creaked under her shift of weight as she adjusted herself for the fifth time this take alone. Close beside her, her mother held her right arm in a tight grip and chattered on about some story of when she had first arrived at Storybrooke. She eyed Regina across the room, shifting Neal's sleeping form in her arms. Her eyes had barely left Emma's all day, and it did nothing but set a fire low in her stomach. She was focused on her brother, now, but caught the blonde's eyes quickly after they had fallen on her - something settled, bright, within them. Emma was caught.

She recovered quickly, returning a small smile and turning her body back towards Mary Margaret. Her thoughts drifted behind her, however. To the woman whose chocolate orbs burned a signature into her bones as she feigned interest in her filmed conversation. The look shared was familiar. It was a morning greeting of an elderly couple, unspoken but ritualistic. She felt that missing piece return. In her smile she felt it fall into place.

And with all this feeling, there was only a little hurt. So little, it hadn't even registered initially as pain - but a phantom wound, in the fibres of her muscles.

She felt invigorated, and was quick to bounce to her feet after the scene was finished. She walked quietly over to Regina, carefully squishing onto the two-seater beside her, as to not disturb her brother. She smiled brightly at the women, her stomach tightening at the readily returned grin.

"I told you today would be boring." she laughed,

"I'm not bored" she responded, looking into her eyes.

"Even I'm bored Regina," she levelled their gaze, "there's no way you're not bored"

The woman shrugged, collecting Neal's limbs and shifting him to the couch beside her, she smirked, "I like knowing things about you."

Her eyes glinted mischievously and Emma chuckled. The warmth blooming in her chest was foreign in its absence, but all so welcome. "You know nothing."

Regina's response was cut short by the arrival of a crew member. He spoke quietly to Emma, who glanced her way - brows drawn tightly together. Their eyes met, and her forehead relaxed. She nodded to the man.

"What was that about?"

"We're doing another interview." she smiled standing, straightening out folds in her skinny leather jeans,

"Oh. Who with?"

"You.

Emma was quick to pull Regina from her perch and onto Karli's makeup seat. Unbothered, the artist began tastefully touching up the brunette's makeup - commenting heartily on the woman's gorgeous features.

"You have some Latina in you, I'm sure."

Regina laughed, "Quite possibly. I'm a mix, if anything."

Karli purred, "a caramel coffee mix from the gods."

The rest of the time getting ready Regina spent admiring Emma's interactions with her crew. They way they laughed with her, and happily accepted Regina as one of their own. Emma was comfortable with them, to just be. She smiled at her and took her seat, turning to Ruby who had sidled up beside her, but keeping her eyes with Regina.

Regina pushed herself from her seat and walked toward her, breaking their lock only to speak to the director who had stepped in front of her.

"just have to mic you up." she smiled unsteadily, "just turn around for me." she turned back toward Karli, who was in the process of packing her bags, and he slid the battery pack onto the waistband of her skirt. Behind the director, Emma smiled reassuringly at Ruby,

"It's going to be fine. We'll just see what happens."

The camera was rolling only feet from where they sat, the lights and umbrella's sending glaring beams of white light their way. Regina perched on the edge of the stressed cane lounge, her legs crossed and arms folded regally in her lap. Emma sat beside her, legs crossed and tucked up underneath her thighs. Her torso leaned greatly to the right, only so when Regina moved slightly backward, her shoulder made contact with her own. The brunette rocked back again, and the touch sent waves of confidence through her.

From behind the blinding lights, the director spoke low, "how did you two meet."

Emma looked briefly at Regina, who grabbed her eyes momentarily, before smiling and looking at her hands. Emma spoke up, "Our son Henry ran away from home in 2014 and found me in New York. I brought him home, back here, and met Regina that night. We didn't really… get along in the beginning."

Regina breathed deep, only now feeling the lump in her throat that formed at _our son_ release and free her voice, "I hated her."

Emma laughed, "I hated you much more, I can guarantee you that."

The director spoke up again, "what about now?"

The silence, while realistically only momentary, felt suspended in time. Emma's heart pounded at the question, one that had assaulted her mind for days. She didn't hate her, but far from it. But she couldn't love her. Regina's stomach knotted terribly and she tensed her thighs. This was a question she crossed off her list a long time ago. No _what are we_ 's or _what is this_ 's.

She cleared her throat unnecessarily against the tumour forming there.

"We're much closer now," Emma spoke up, "we don't hate each other just as much."

The set erupted in applause at the end of their take, the tiny apartment flooded with claps of a victorious cheer. Ruby, Marian and Emma hugged happily, having successfully completed all but their final concert on tape. By the far wall, Regina hung back, happily clinging to Neal fast asleep in her arms, having retreated to his embrace immediately following the cut call. She watched Emma weave through the crowd towards her, smiling and speaking with everyone politely - though her eyes were tired and drawn. She caught gaze with Regina and lit up, the caught look disappearing instantly from her face. Deep in her stomach, something turned happily, but the brunette was quick to squish any budding enthusiasm.

The ring on her left hand felt heavy and foreboding.

"I could _really_ use a drink." Emma laughed, leaning in close to rest her hand upon the tangled mop of hair upon her brothers head. Regina breathed her in, actively training her eyes away from her arm and where it played with the strands of hair just above her chest

"I agree" she laughed, feeling the woman's emerald gaze warm the skin of her face. She watched the pale fingers entangle with pale strands where they lay upon the blouse right atop her heart. She was more than aware that the blonde across from her could feel just how hard it was beating.

Emma's breath stuttered at the feel of Regina's laugh as it rumbled through her chest, focusing instead on stroking the moist strands of hair away from Neil's forehead. His head was nuzzled deep into the brunette's chest, the warmth of his breath had moistened a patch of the silken blouse just beside her left breast pocket. Regina stared intently at her fingers, where they splayed over his forehead, fingertips hovering just barely above the moistened smudge. Emma chose to study her face, the one she had missed the opportunity of seeing for two years far too long. The purple fabric of the woman's shirt grazed her fingertips rapidly, moving with what only could be the beating of the woman's heart. She fought the urge to move her hands closer, to press the thrumming of her heartbeat as it coursed through her fingers to the skin - to show the woman that her heart was beating just as fast. Regina finally met her gaze, and Emma was too caught to hid what she knew was blazing there.

"Oh!" Mary-Margaret squeaked from where she stood just behind Emma, who was quick to remove her hand from where it almost lay upon Regina's chest, ripping her gaze away to her mother, "he's asleep! so early, that's wonderful." She floated over, gently retrieving her son from the nest of her once enemy's chest. He barely stirred in the transition, "thank you so much Regina." and her mother left - oblivious to the moment she had intruded.

A moment passed, and Regina finally let out the breath she must have been holding since Emma first walked over. Emma tucked her hands into her back pockets, cautiously drifting her gaze across the room to the other woman's.

"Drinks everyone! Let's gooooo" Ruby yelled from across the room, of which the occupants erupted in a hushed set of cheers, as Mary-Margaret hurried over the room, her face twisted in desperation to remind everyone of her sleeping son. The room began to clear, the party led by Marian, Ruby, and what probably should have been Emma - who still stood, her eyes boring into the other woman's since they the second she finally brought herself to meet them.

"Drinks, then?" she muttered, smiling invitingly and hoping with her entire soul that it looked platonic.

Regina returned the smile, but Emma was not in any position to determine its meaning, as her head clouding with a foggy warmth, just as the woman responded, "drinks sound perfect."

"Great," Emma smiled, gesturing across the almost empty apartment to the door, "shall we leave, Your Majesty?"

Regina laughed, smiling brilliantly despite the flush of warmth to her clenched thighs, slapping the woman lightly on her shoulder. She stumbled only momentarily when Emma placed her hand upon the small of her back, but she was certain in her movement to stop the blonde's retreating touch, which only served to increase the growing warmth between them.

The bar was loud, flooded with her entire crew and the local patrons. The jukebox, which usually rotated between the same four upbeat, 70's classics, now thumped loudly with songs from their album - creating a very conflicting atmosphere for Emma and her friends. She couldn't really bring herself to mind though, not as Regina sat just beside her in the booth, her heeled foot unknowingly stroking comforting lines down the length of Emma's jean-clad shin. Regina nursed a red wine, and the way she delicately sipped at its colour and dragged her tongue along the stain of her lips had her regretting her choice of bourbon.

"If anyone's an alcoholic here, it's Emma" Lily giggled from across the table of their booth, both her and Ruby casting an accusatory glance her way.

"Excuse me!" Emma gasped, feign-clutching her chest, but was interrupted before she could defend herself,

"Emma, you have no grounds to defend yourself right now. I know for a fact that you wrote over half of this album drunk on tequila. Because I was drunk with you."

the table erupted in laughter, the truth of the words smothered by drunken obliviousness. Beside her, Regina tensed slightly, but was quick to control herself - her ankle not once ceasing in its repetitive movement.

"Its the only way to do it." She said, settling back into the seat and laying her arm along its back behind Regina. The brunette moved in closer, microscopically so, but it warmed her to relax, "everything just sort of… comes out" she laughed, drinking deep from her bourbon mixer. Regina watched entranced as she swallowed the liquid, watched the muscles in her neck tense and relax. She forced herself away, meandering her eyes over the patrons of the bar. Drinking deeply from her wine, she focused herself on the conversation - intent on keeping her gaze away from the blonde beside her at all costs.

Ruby sat forward, her eyes glazed heavily with alcohol and levelled her gaze with Regina's, "where's Robin tonight?" the words held no ill-intent, or menace, but they tensed the woman all the same. Emma shifted her arm, just enough to graze her fingertips across the woman's exposed shoulder. Regina shook, tingling from the touch, but her muscles instinctually relaxing. Marian, from beside Emma, laughed loudly - no longer bothered by the thought of her (quote) 'dumbass ex-husband'.

"I honestly have no idea," she laughed, the table eagerly responding, "I think I'm more than due for a ladies night."

"I can guarantee you are," Marian spoke up, laughing heartily at her thoughts, "that man is incapable of doing _anything_ around the house. I swear, he comes home everyday _absolutely filthy_ "

"he does." Regina agreed, smiling exasperatedly and taking a sip from her glass, humour in her demeanour

"and he just dumps his clothes on the floor, does he still do that?" she asked, drinking deeply from her beer.

"he does. I've showed him the dirty laundry basket plenty of times, but it just doesn't seem to click with him."

"That's normal" Marian responded, her eyes searching the bar, "Im sure you know its never going to get better."

Regina loudly laughed, almost forcibly, "its very unfortunate."

The girls erupted in laughter once again, the drink having far too much of an impact on the bar's atmosphere and their conversations. Mary Margaret launched into a (more than likely far too overly) detailed description of how 'good of a husband' Emma's father was, while Ruby and Lily disappeared into each other. Marian wondered across the room, where a rather attractive man stood attending the bar. And once again, Emma and Regina just kind of… existed together.

It was, surely, _hours_ of small talk and seemingly bottomless drinks later, that they finally relaxed into conversation - one that was no longer barricaded by the barriers of sobriety.

"What did you say when he asked?" they sat by the bar now, the booth having emptied over the hours passed. Emma was pretty sure Lily and Ruby were inside one of the bar's toilet stalls at that time, but at least they took themselves away from the public eye. Regina looked down at the ring on her left hand, always knowing just what the blonde was talking about, and twisted it anxiously in her fingers.

"Honestly, I kind of blanked." she spoke, not a giggle in her voice, "It felt so last minute. He said it like it had always been an option, and it hadn't even passed as a thought in my mind."

Emma frowned, shifting closer to the woman on her barstool. She was drinking wine too now, and the remaining sips warmed in her glass on the countertop. "Why did you say yes?"

Regina paused, her fingers moving back to grasp the stem of her rather full wine glass. She swallowed hard, and lifted the glass to her lips, "It felt like that was what I was supposed to say." she drank deeply, and elegantly placed the glass back atop its napkin, "and it wasn't like I really had a _reason_ to say no. Not one that I was ready and willing to go about explaining."

Emma moved her hand to the woman's lower thigh, a placement she had been planning for quite some time - not too high, she didn't think _either_ of them could handle that, "You didn't need a reason, you know."

She smiled, placing a thankful hand atop the woman's pale one, "I know. But he still would've asked for one. And I wasn't really in a position to deny him that. He _was_ already living with me and _our_ son." She quickly finished her glass, wiping her free hand roughly along her long lipstick-free lips, "And he's not Henry's _dad_ you know? Henry is happy without a dad, he won't ever want nor need one." she finally looked back to Emma, revelling in the warmth she held for her within her gaze.

Emma mirrored the brunette, happily draining the glass in front of her, "Regardless, you could've just said no."

"Why would I have? I was told he was my soulmate. I was supposed to love him forever. _He was_ my happy ending, the one that I had, if you really look at it, done everything for." she could feel the woman's eyes, the way they assessed her every feature - searching for the tick, the one that would prove her words false, "My fears were just anxieties I had. I understand that now."

The blonde smiled, but it was small and retreating, "I don't know about you, Gina. But I'm pretty drunk."

Regina nodded enthusiastically, sliding her body off her seat, and guiding her heels safely to the ground, "I think I am too, Em."

"well then," the woman spoke, stretching her body from the stool she sat upon, speaking in her best _good knight_ voice "I think we should depart, your majesty."

The winter air was unrelenting as the couple walked down main street, Emma having already shed her jacket for the brunette. Regina struggled much harder now to train her eyes away from the intricate art that adorned the pale skin of the woman's arms. She opted instead to occasionally grasp the leather jacket's sleeves over her hands and lift them to her nose - to just _breathe_ _in_ Emma. The conversation remained much lighter, both of them having reached their threshold of open dialogue for the day.

As they neared closer to the older woman's home, their pace began to stagnate, and their conversation became more elaborate and needy. Neither were willing to end this night, to risk the loss of this regained connection, or even any awkwardness that may follow. Regina was the first to open the gate, so to speak, the path to her house now only steps from where they stood.

"I didn't think you'd ever come back here, you know." she said, turning herself in the arm Emma had placed once again at the small of her back.

"I wasn't ever going to," Emma admitted, "But I think I got past that."

Regina smiled a small, but sad smile, "Got past what?"

the blonde laughed, shaking her head at herself, but not moving to pull away from the other woman, "The feeling that I would bash Robin's head in if I ever saw him again."

Regina laughed too, even though burned from the honesty of the words, she cleared her throat, "So why _did_ you come back then?"

Emma's smile faded, and she peered into the moon where it peaked from behind dark, stormy clouds, and then to the ground, "I don't know. I guess, I decided to be content with your happiness."

Regina choked, her breath stalling completely in action. Her stomach dropped with the same words that sent an eruption of warmth in her chest. When she mustered her speech, it was through a clenched jaw, "well, good night Emma." Her turn away was ceased, however, by movement of the blonde woman's hand to her hip. It held her there, suspended, "Regina."

"I want you to be happy too, Emma. Thank you for a wonderful evening" was all she could muster, before disappearing up the steps and into her house. She couldn't risk glancing back towards those green, searing eyes. Not with the crashing mess her heart was, beating so haphazardly in her chest. Once inside, she collapsed against the front door, breathing heavily and praying to the gods to calm down. When her breathing had calmed, she retrieved her phone from her skirt pocket, typing a quick message to the other woman

 _I really did have a wonderful night, thank you Emma._

She pushed herself from the ground, and began her trek upstairs. Halfway, she froze and jumped to check the woman's response

 _I had a really good time too. Breakfast tomorrow? I don't think I can be apart from my jacket for over 12 hours hahahaha_

Her stomach flipped, only now realising the warmth the jacket still gave her body. The smell it filled her nose with. She thumbed her reply, _How can you trust me for that long? I'll meet you at 7 :)_ and continued upstairs to her study where she curled up on the couch, the jacket draped comfortingly across her shoulders, the neck tugged tightly to the woman's face. Her phone vibrated once more, _Sleep well, Gina x_


End file.
